this is a comment that my former roommate and camping buddy from Portland (Dave, hello!) left, regarding the previous post, on my facebook page.
i decided it was so fucking epic that it needed to be shared.
"When I was nineteen, twenty, I worked as a car parker at some of long Island's finest Wedding and Bar Mitzvah establishments.
These are places that have rabbis, but no congregations, just catering facilities. Lots of pinks and mauve in the decor, with huge, tasteless crystal chandeliers.
Most of the brides and grooms were so high on cocaine that they had no idea what they were doing, and the best man often tipped us teenagers with a snow seal. (Ah, the affluent NY community in the early 80's.)
As an outsider working the gig, it was painfully obvious that at least 8 out of ten couples were completely incompatible, as were their families.
My all time favorite was the Italian, Jewish wedding where the two families set up in hostile camps on opposite sides of the ballroom. The obviously pregnant bride was wearing a white stretch polyester gown, with white powder caught in her untrimmed nose hairs. The groom, drunk as well as coked out, made a clutching, grabbing pass at her younger sister. Classy.
Thank you Satan, for bringing back fond memories."
writing about weddings like a weirdo obsessed high schooler? possibly strange. but garnering THIS story, in doing so???