wedding

I made a mental note to myself. Tell the girl to be there on time. The groom was standing up the front there, so self-confident, carefree, bullet-proof. Subsequent to his marrying his wife, the groom would tell me that those moments had been torture, his stomach clenched like a fist, *censored*. You did fine, looked so calm. I told him. And it was true, he had looked right in his element. Wiping imaginary tears away from behind unclouded glasses, winking at the mother-in-law to be, joking with the best man, smiling at the congregation, smiling at no-one. Yes, that's it, the poor beggar was scared to death. His act had fooled everyone but those whom he had admitted the truth too. Good on him, but to heck with that for a joke.

1:10pm.

She hadn't arrived yet. It's hard enough on a guy as it is. I studied the subject and quite there and then resolved never to allow myself to be put in his situation. A thousand thoughts rushed into the groom's head, banging together in the same way that particles of steam do. And just as water expands when it becomes steam, the groom's brain was overloaded and a shocker of a head-ache hit him like an oak baseball bat in the side of his head, just above his left ear.

Had there been an accident?

They jilt you. It's happened before.

The groom slows down his movements, raises a shaking, sweat hand and waves at someone in the back row who has just arrived. Someone in the back row who has just arrived waves back. It is not the same person, but what the heck. He casually asks his best-man for the time and upon seeing that the best-man has the same time as he does, somewhat more hurriedly requests the same courtesy from his two groomsmen. Having been assured that his time is correct, the groom curses the two cans of Red Bull he had drunk hastily a few hours previous, his mind travelling back to the hectic night before. The party hadn't been out of control, the music hadn't gotten too loud. He had stayed up til just before 4am, talking man to man with a good mate who had himself tied the knot a few months previous. And the shots hadn't helped.

Is the guy going to announce it? They've probably got the women's knitting group AGM in here next. They're going to postpone the wedding.

The minister stands up and introduces the thing. Introduces himself. Introduces the church. Introduces the groom and his bride, who just hasn't arrived yet. Thanks everybody for coming out. Takes one last look at the crowd. Everyone stand up please.

The two flower girls make their way down the aisle, throwing flowers in front of them. It's the beginning of Spring and the flowers are blossoms, maybe cherry or apple blossoms. It's a good look. Three bridesmaids take the cake with emerald-green dresses I'm told, and apparently the black high-heels are hard to walk in. I wouldn't know. How much does this stuff cost? They fit right in like they do this every day. Fair dinkum. I know if it was me, I'd be grinning my head off, unable to help myself, avoiding any eye-contact at pain of death, for fear of laughing out loud.

The aisle is empty. Blossoms crushed into the well-trodden red carpet; sticks of blossom and lace decorate the end of every pew. These are no "stack up two and lift 'em into the corner pews", these are the same kind of pew that preachers found themselves talking to in the late 1900s, at which time the affect of the great awakening had worn off, and a generation turned away from the Bible, seeking answers in "science" or embracing such notions as atheism.

The groom is standing on his toes, rocking back onto his heels and then onto his toes again. He is looking for the bride. Where is she? Why doesn't she just follow the bridesmaids in? The musicians are playing a really nice tune. The groom wrote it for his bride. seconds that seem like hours tick by and the groom is starting to panic; he doesn't show it.

A murmur at the back of the congregation.

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Note to my future wife if you're reading this - we're not going to do the waiting game thing at the wedding ok? We can sort out some sort of compromise on the tradition. Can't we?