Four Feet More

This weekend marked a very special occasion. On Sunday evening, my good friend Jaime got married to a great guy, and I had the honor of being her bridesmaid (which I prefer to the more stout sounding "brides matron").

James and I met nearly 15 years ago while working at a highly dysfunctional Pet Hospital, which despite being populated with crazy people was where I met my three best friends (not sure what that says about me - make of it what you will). I worked there first, and was joined by Mel a few years later. Then Jaime entered our group as the "young one", and the three of us have been friends ever since (for those of you keeping count, the third best friend I met at the Pet Hospital was Jeff - the UPS guy who made our deliveries). Despite having vastly different personalities, the three of us just work well together. We accept each other’s eccentricities and annoying personality traits, and our time together is always filled with lots of laughter.

This weekend was no different. Between games of Bocce Ball, spa treatments at Mel’s house and a slumber party Saturday night, were moments of doubled over laughter. However, the most memorable events occurred at the wedding reception.

Being the good bridesmaids and friends that we are, Mel and I swore to be “on it” for Jaime, no matter what. Well, these duties went a little further than I had imagined. Assistance in the bathroom I could easily predict because hey, wedding dresses are big and unwieldy. Can’t have them getting soiled while the bride does her business. What I did not anticipate however, was the rogue toilet-seat cover that attempted to stick with James as she was leaving the stall. I definitely took one for the team when I removed that thing! Then there was the bizarre incident (this happened several times, really), where Mel, James and I were the only people on the dance floor. During “Hey Ya!” by Outcast, the rest of the wedding guests were sitting back, watching the three of us dance as if we were on stage or something. Even the photographers were surrounding us, taking pictures. It was as if there was some tradition of the Bride/Bridemaids dance or something. So bizarre. And I felt like a complete ass because truthfully, I’m not the most gifted dancer, and having everyone’s attention on me as I attempted to “shake my groove thang” was torturous. But, Jaime wanted to dance, so dance I did with a big smile plastered to my face.

Unfortunately, when a couple joined us on the dance floor, it was the mother-of-the-groom (who is in her late fifties) and her 34-year-old boyfriend. Now, I’m not going to judge her too harshly for choosing a cougar lifestyle. Hey, more power to her, really. I will however, judge her for her and her Boy Toy’s antics on the dance floor. Let’s just say that there was a lot of grouping, grinding, and general unseemliness going on. At one point, mother-of-the-groom was straddling Boy Toy, legs locked around his waist as he ground into her. It was not becoming. In fact, I flashed back to junior high, where school dances always consisted of clumps of girls dancing, boys all sitting/standing on the outskirts of the room, too “cool” to join in, and the creepy couple making out on the dance floor. Fortunately, Jaime and Patric seemed able to blow the whole thing off and have a good time anyway.

Despite his mother’s unfortunate choice of boyfriends, Patric really is a great guy and is perfect for Jaime. During the first half of our 15-year friendship, James was with a pretty damaging person who did not come close to deserving her. I’m so happy to see her settling down with a man who truly loves her for who she is, and will put up with her, rogue toilet seat covers and all.

Congratulations Jaime and Patric! I hope you both are having a wonderful honeymoon and look forward to hanging out when you get back!