We used to average 9 a year. This year, I think, will be three. Saturday, it was a Greek Orthodox ceremony and I swear to your shiny Cylon God that I have no idea what happened.
They wore crowns. They did everything in triplicate. And the couple had to hold candles for the whole hour and half. Big candles. It was very long and it was in a language I didn’t speak.
Or it was. Knowing that this wedding was going to be Extra Long Play, I checked out as I soon as we sat down. I memorized the names in the wedding party. I went through all the pamphlets in the pew backs. I taught myself the straight forward yet intricate ways to fall out of good standing in the Greek Orthodox Church. (Hint #1 - don’t marry your grandmother. Hint #2 - don’t be not Greek.) And then I clapped when someone said “I know pronounce you husband and wife.”
When the groom asked me about the ceremony afterwards I told it was nice and ornate but I couldn’t really follow what was going. He thought this odd since the whole was in English. I’d somehow convinced myself that the service was going to be in Greek and even though it wasn’t. That was a good 2 hours well spent.