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An Uninvited Wedding Guest
I knew it was a bad idea. Outside. Not in a proper church with pews and an altar and organ improvisation echoing off the stone walls. Instead, a classical guitar playing the Wedding March as Tess and her dad follow Sue down the aisle—what I wouldn’t give for a Hendrix-at-Woodstock rendition—and of all the lawns in all the world a pigeon decided to poop on my head.
What is one to do? What can one do? Trying to get rid of it would be a disaster, a clammy yellow arranged like some stale taco dip. It wouldn’t look so bad on Tommy, Tess’s ex, with his blond hair; hell, it might improve the wanker’s looks. Perhaps no one will notice. If I tried, with my dark hair, I’d end up on one of those you-won’t-believe-what-happened-at-this-wedding memes. No thank you.
Oops. The priest sees. He gives a wait-are-you-gonna-do? shrug, probably thinking this doesn’t happen at a proper, church wedding. Thanks, padre.
Finally. Sue is reaching the front. Maid-of-Honor. Some ups-and-downs with dear Sue, but in the end she came around. I doubt Tess would have agreed if Sue didn’t sign off on me. Thanks, Sue. Oh. Sue sees it. Nice double-take there and a smile. Sue and I will get along great.
Now, Tess and her dad. No veil—it’s outside—and no fancy gown. Kiss on the cheek and he hands her off to me.
She looks and smiles. Her this-is-how-I-ensnared-you smile. She is such a fool for having said yes. And me? I’m what Gehrig said in the movie.
Of course she sees it, the blob of pigeon poop. Will she pull an Elaine and rush out? Apparently not. She lifts her free hand. Touches her hair corresponding to my blob. And blows me a kiss.
FictionTrials 