Few things make me want to sob with joy and vomit simultaneously. Weddings are one of these things.
The time is upon me—everyone I know is starting to get married. There have already been a few—I was a bridesmaid at my college room-mate’s wedding in June—but within the next 5 years I suspect I will be getting a plethora of lace-trimmed invitations in the mail reminding me that everyone I know is much more advanced in life than I am. And the worst part about the invitations? Aside from the fact that I will again be that weird single friend drinking too much in the corner and sobbing during the ceremony because despite my strange fear of getting married I am a hopeless romantic? The little card that comes with the invitation requiring me to check “chicken” or “fish” (or steak or whatever omnivorous things are being offered).
I went as the “Plus One” to a wedding this past weekend, and despite it being a ton of fun—the (pregnant) bride mooned us, tongued her groom inappropriately at every occasion, and her grandmother did shots of tequila—the food situation was incredibly awkward. A buffet situation is much easier to maneuver than a sit-down dinner, because I would feel uncomfortable making any sort of special request—it’s not my day to wear white and have everyone stare at me. Since I knew this wedding was a pretty fancy schmancy sit-down affair, I assumed I would be able to eat nothing, so I brought a ton of snacks which I ate in the car like a half-starved squirrel. At dinner, the waiter—who spoke no English, I believe he was some sort of eastern European—asked if I wanted filet mignon or monkfish. I said neither, and nicely explained that I wouldn’t be eating dinner, because I don’t eat meat. He blinked at me a few times and walked away. When he brought me soup—lobster bisque—I again said “no, thank you.” I tried not to be disrespectful; I know it can be offensive when someone doesn’t want to eat your food. Again, I explained I don’t eat meat. Or dairy! We got a bit lost in translation; him gesturing wildly at the empty place setting in front of me, me seriously considering taking my glass of wine and hibernating under the skirt of the white linen tablecloth until the meal was over. Eventually he asked me if he could bring me some juice…At least I think that is what he said, because I said yes but no juice ever appeared. Just more wine. And champagne. And wine. And…
After watching this awkward exchange of conversation, the friend sitting next to me suggested that perhaps I should learn an obscure language so if I ever find myself in a similar situation again, I can begin babbling in Papiamento so the affronter will leave me alone. And then the dapper gentleman on the other side of me–a complete stranger, mind you–said “so, you’re one of those vegans huh?” Yep, I replied. “Like Hitler…” was his response. Oy Vey! (Also Hitler was a vegetarian not a vegan so hah, I win.)
So tell me your awkward social situations? What kind of food do you keep in your purse/man-purse to eat like a weird socially awkward rodent? Have you ever been to a ceremony where the vows included the line “I take you, biggest pain in the ass I have ever met…?” I have. Do you cry at weddings? I do I do I do.