Weddings are costly. Recently, my daughter got married. Giving away my daughter was hard. It was painfuI. It was a grand event, a happy event, don’t get me wrong. Drinks and dancing, flowers and cake. You know…you’ve been to a wedding or two. The next morning is usually a tough one for all of us. But that’s not the pain I’m talking about. Staying out of all the decision making process with my wife and daughter was hard. But that’s not the pain I’m talking about. Acting like every idea they had was the best idea ever, nodding my head like a bobble doll was painful. But that’s not the pain I’m talking about. Glueing a permanent smile to my face to keep the ladies happy was painful. But that’s not the pain I’m talking about.
The pain I’m talking about is personal. I’m talking about ending my relationship with my three best friends. After the wedding, I realized I needed to take a break from these guys for a while. They were out of control. They had way too much alcohol, too much cake, too much food. These were good friends that I have known since I was 18. They were there for me every step of the way, day or night. I did many things with these guys, good and bad. Went to good restaurants together, strippers in Vegas, skydiving in Hawaii. We were close. You know my three friends too. In fact, I’ll bet they have been there for you from time to time.
I’m talking about Visa, MC and American Express. These guys just sucked me dry. They were leeches on my neck. Every time I got the card out to pay, I heard a giant sucking sound. You know the sound… it’s the one you hear at a drive through bank when you put your paycheck in that plastic tube and watch it suck right up to the sky. Bye Bye paycheck.
The ladies wanted an open bar. Sure my little princess, anything for you. They wanted lots of flowers. Absolutely my little flower. A three tiered cake? Why not? I mean, you are my little peach. Steak or salmon for our guests? Of course my lovely little muffin. Some of the family can’t afford to come out, can we help them? Why not, I mean, somebody’s gotta eat all this steak and cake with my sweet little girl. A DJ? A Band? Why not both? I mean, there’s still room on the dance floor. I think.
Weddings are costly. Wedding planners are costly too. They’re ATM machines on overtime. Weddings are Wells Fargo Armored Cars, and I’m just the driver. They’re emotional licenses to steal. The best car salesmans’ got nuttin’ on my wedding planner. Our wedding planner was a professional hitman. Our wedding planner used a gun. But it wasn’t filled with lead bullets. It was filled with emotional bullets. She shot out small little sayings like a hypnotist trying to extract information from me for a crime 30 years ago. Sayings like, “She’s your only daughter”. “Your family will remember this forever.” “You only get married once” (I wanted to fire back and say “not in today’s world”, but I didn’t want to sleep on the couch). She was good. If I ever wanted to take someone out, you know, mafia style, I would use her. She would bankrupt them to death. She would find out things about their family that would kill them. It would be a clean hit. Heck, She put me in the witness protection program.
Weddings are costly. I was on a first name basis with this lady in India extending my credit. I applied for additional cards, and used those cards to make the payments on my existing cards. She was great. She even gave me a few recipes. I think my granddaughter should be named after her. Or maybe we’ll name her Visa.
My daughter and her husband are going to do great things. Me, I’m just gonna change my name and move to an unknown location.
Have a great summer,
Tom, Tammy and Fammy