A Wedding

Hamfist's oldest friend finally found himself a girl over the summer. We found out about it when he changed his Facebook status to "in a relationship" at the beginning of August. Within 2 weeks, that was updated to "engaged", and the same day Hamfist got a call telling him he'd need a tux for the 11/20 wedding. A couple days later, Groom called us, asked to talk to me, then promptly passed me off to Bride. I knew what was coming, and sure enough, I was asked to be a bridesmaid. I'd met Bride only once, and the notice was short, but she's not from around here, didn't have any close coworkers or anyone else to ask, and well, since Hamfist was already in the wedding party, why not? It's a mitzvah, so okay; I have tons of bridesmaid experience.

I've attended my then best friend, my mother and my sister, plus serving as witness/unofficial bridesmaid at one other friend's wedding. Every time I've done it, it's been for people with whom I had a close connection and I felt 100% positive about the marriage, or at least would never consider refusing. This time I was feeling superstitious and weird about my signature being on the marriage license as a witness; I wasn't sure I should do it if I believe the marriage is doomed. Okay, I knew the first one was doomed, but was too young to give my accountability much thought, and I was happy and proud to be attending my friend, who'd chosen me over both her sisters. Only in hindsight did I feel any discomfort in having anything to do with authorizing it, and I'm sure that was part of my discomfort with this scenario.

He's 42; she's 20. She's had only one prior boyfriend; he has a crazy bitter ex-wife who's kept him on a string for years and sends him stalkery texts. Her mother strongly opposes the match; not sure what's up with dad or bio-mom (yeah), but none of them would be present for the wedding. He's on disability but also works part-time and goes to community college, in Hamfist's hometown about 2 hours' drive from here. She apparently is no longer going to college, and had just given notice at her job so she could move to join him at his grandmother's filthy house that reeks of cat and stale cigarettes, to live with Gram, who is in the early stages of dementia, bringing her two cats to join the three that already live there.

To be fair, they do seem to be very much in love. So much so that the second time I met her, she sat on the couch with him and stroked his crotch right in front of us for a good 5 minutes. Hamfist and I haven't sustained eye contact for that long in months; eventually I thought of something to do in the kitchen, and he found some excuse to leave the room too. Thank goodness they had to leave to meet her mother for dinner - maybe it was nerves over that meeting that made her... Never mind.

The day after that, another call from Groom: The November formal wedding was off, or rather postponed/transformed to just a reception to be held next spring. In the meantime, they would be having a small ceremony at Bride's apartment October 8; it's close to Groom's mom's home so she could attend. We were still booked as best man and bridesmaid for that. Hamfist and I can only speculate that Bride's mom may have had some say, since no explanation was forthcoming. If Bride is pregnant, they haven't said so. Heaven knows I've been there and shouldn't talk, but well, the girl is not small. Not freakishly large - no, that character has yet to join us! - but she could easily be 5 -6 months along and no one would know. In any case, cool, now I wouldn't have to have my 12-year-old bridesmaid dress from my sister's wedding taken in. I'd been kinda psyched to be getting a second use out of it, though.

The next call from Groom was about a week later. Bride was being kicked out of her apartment because management had found out that she was renting out one of the rooms without authorization, in violation of her lease. This came to light when the authorities were doing a big sweep of the area, checking on all the registered sex offenders to make sure they're in compliance, living at the right addresses and so on. The unauthorized roommate, who is another old friend of Groom's and Hamfists, and thus the means of Bride and Groom's meeting, is an RSO. When the cops went to the apartment management to point out that since there are children living in the complex, he can't be there, the management was not at all pleased. I'm not clear how this worked out, but somehow Bride had to be out within 3 days, while Roommate had 30. Even though that made no sense to us, Hamfist of course agreed to help move her things into storage in his pickup, a week before the wedding. Naturally, I went along to help. Bride was at work, Groom was there supervising, and I got to meet Roommate. I was a little on edge about that, despite Hamfist's assurances that the sex offender thing is because of a "totally bogus rape conviction based on an aggrieved ex-girlfriend's lies" back in his misguided youth, nothing that would make him a threat to kids, or anyone else.

Well. Roommate is so morbidly obese that he literally can't walk from bedroom to living room without getting winded. He has an overactive thyroid and is on disability for that, plus he works from home as a customer service rep on the phone. From his bed. On his belly. In his underwear. With an attendant to do things like cooking and cleaning, since he can't stand for that long. My concerns were allayed - a crawling infant could outrun this Jabba the Hutt. However, I was glad to be called on to help with the moving, even though it meant three of us squeezing in the front of the pickup, so that I wouldn't be left alone with him in the apartment that reeked not only of cat and stale cigarettes, but of sour garbage and unwashed human as well. Also, there were no toilet seats, because they can't withstand Roommate's weight.

At last, the happy day arrived! Hamfist and I joked while picking out what to wear (a somber dress and boots for me, while Ham was rocking a very sophisticated Hawaiian shirt and khakis) that we'd probably be the best-dressed people there. Just about that time, Groom called with an update. While at the courthouse to pick up their marriage license, they decided? were convinced? to just do the deed then and there. However, since the main point of today's ceremony was that Groom's mom should be present, they didn't want her to know that she'd missed out on the actual event. This meant that we would not be required to sign as witnesses after all, which eased my mind, and everything else would just go forward as planned.

As we expected, Bride and Groom were both in dirty jeans and faded black rocker t-shirts. It was powerfully evident that Bride had not showered recently enough - and I say this as a person with pretty, ahem, European standards. On your wedding day? Really?? Any doubt I might have had - maybe the odor was just the result of nerves? - was dispelled when I was called upon to French braid her dandruffy, greasy hair. Mostly so that Groom's mother, hummingbirdlike in her anxiety, could take some obligatory pictures of Bride having her hair done.

The ceremony was performed by Roommate, who is, predictably, an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church. His concessions to the occasion included putting on a t-shirt and some shorts, and getting to the couch in the living room so we didn't all have to crowd into his bedroom. His attendant was also present, along with Groom's mom's life partner. Hamfist kept his arm around me, mostly so he could whisper in my ear, "Don't laugh... don't laugh..." I surprised myself by actually tearing up briefly, in response to Groom's mom, and to how obviously moved Roommate was to be marrying these, his dear friends. Even though he wasn't, really.

After the ceremony, those who smoke stepped outside to do so. I admired Bride's ring and congratulated Roommate on his smooth delivery - he did do a good job, and admitted to practicing several times in the mirror. Hamfist hustled us out of there as soon as possible; Happy Couple and family were off to dinner. On the way home I informed Hamfist that I will NOT be helping when it comes time to move Roommate out of there at the end of the month. There is no way I am touching anything of his. "Oh, and honey? Let's not have a sad, pathetic wedding in a room that reeks, okay?" "Deal."