Three years ago I got off a tiny plane in Aspen to go to a wedding of my friend M and some guy I didn’t really know. Our mutual friend Megaspeed, who had offered me her couch, picked me up and we drove through the snow wonderland of Aspen, quite a change from warm and sunny Las Vegas. We spent the next day doing crazy pre-wedding things, like riding the lift to the top of a ski run and taking photos of the bride in a white dress and black furry Uggs and drinking not sure what and doing nails in the middle of the night.
The wedding was supposed to be an intimate gathering of friends in a condo overlooking the slopes. As we were curling hair in the bathroom two hours before, I got a text message from M, who said, “Shef, (which is my nickname from high school), do you think you think you can officiate?”
Do I think I can officiate? As in pronounce them husband and wife? Wasn’t there supposed to be a specially trained person for that purposed? Not someone how’s just got through ironing their shirt?
“In Colorado, as long as you got the marriage license, anyone can officiate,” said Megaspeed.
That was no relief. With less than two hours to go, we had to come up with a speech or some kind of scenario of what people usually say at weddings. There had to be a template, right? Or was I supposed to come up with my own, a more personal version? But I’d only met the groom once, and all I knew about him that he had a well-groomed beard?
My curls were going flat as I got on the internet to try to come up with the right words so that I didn’t ruin my friends’ married life forever. Together with Megaspeed, who now had the mirror all to herself and was doing a great job with her eyelashes we came up with a paragraph that we practiced on each other until it was time to leave.
At the condo, everything was about joyful anticipation. My hands were going damp as I pictured the guests’ profound disappointment with my performance. My only hope was the shots that they were welcomed with at the door and most didn’t refuse.
I don’t remember how the speech went and don’t remember what I said. It’s OK – my dad doesn’t remember their entire wedding. But at some point I got to the most important part and …. couldn’t remember what it was.
“And now we pronounce you husband and wife,” Megaspeed exclaimed. And the newlyweds kissed and the Champaign went off and I could exhale.
The next morning, or rather early afternoon, Megaspeed and I sat down for coffee in her apartment.
“You know how you went home last night and we went sledding down the ski slope?” she asked.
“Yes, the one that ended with a heated concrete pavement and a bunch of street lights?” I asked.
“It was lots of fun,” she said and demonstrated her blue knee and two fingers what now bent backwards.
Happy Anniversary guys!