October 24, 1992, a beautiful day to have a wedding. The groom stands nervously at the altar, awaiting his beautiful bride. She is nowhere to be found. The limo packed with four bridesmaids, a flower girl, the maid of honor, and the bride, is missing. The groom tries to call his bride: no answer. She is always early, but today is not an ordinary day.
A half hour later the packed limo shows up and at last the ceremony is underway. As the bride makes her way down the aisle, the groom looks at her with his hands out as if to say where have you been, I thought you got cold feet. The bride looks at the groom with watery eyes, bouquet shaking, and just shrugs one shoulder. Her father gives her hand to her groom, and she tells the groom, “I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”
After an hour of photos, the bride and groom finally make it to the reception and their anxious guests. When the traditional rituals are over and the bride and groom make their exit, they are showered with birdseed instead of rice. Too many birds would explode and die from the rice.
The bride and groom go upstairs where their wedding night suite awaits them. The bride’s husband helps her out of her veil, 100 bobby pins, and a thousand tiny pearl buttons. She has that special wedding night lingerie packed and waiting, but wait, where is her suitcase? Her husband was supposed to have it in their car. Well, he did, but her mother drove the car home since they would be leaving on a cruise the next morning.
No big deal, she can wear her husband’s tuxedo shirt when room service delivers their late night snack of crispy chicken tenders with bar-b-que sauce and shoestring French fries smothered in ketchup. Under the tuxedo shirt, she wears skimpy panties complete with heart shaped padding containing a disc that when pushed plays “The Wedding March.” This is perfect until the fire alarm is pulled, and the hotel has to evacuate in its entirety. Now what is she going to do?
Without thinking she yanks the fancy sheet off the bed, wraps up in it, puts on her heels and stumbles over the blanket. She tiptoes outside knowing she is almost naked under the blanket she holds tightly to her chest. She stands close to the groom in the quiet chaos: people of all races and sexes demanding to know what is going on, staff trying to calm everyone down but beginning to lose the crowd, and then the alarm goes silent. The air is cool and crisp with a mix of perfume and aftershave, alcohol, and sleep. In the quiet chaos, Here comes the bride…. The wedding march song begins to play. Everyone looks around to see who it is or where it comes from, and the bride and groom look straight ahead. As the other guests disperse, they play it cool. They gently stroll back to their honeymoon suite and close the door behind them. The groom opens the door one more time and hangs the Do Not Disturb sign on the handle.
The next morning at the complimentary breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice, another couple asks the married couple if they heard the wedding march last night. The married couple says, “Yes, wonder where it was coming from?” They continue eating their pancakes smothered in maple syrup with crispy bacon; they place their napkins on their plates and head off to their honeymoon.
