Authors: Mike Gayle
It’ll reduce puffiness
around the eyes
W
e set a wedding date for as soon as was possible, which turned out to be some four months away, and in the meantime I went back to temping, gigged like a demon with Dan up and down the country and fell more deeply in love with Mel than I thought possible.
Like these things do, the big day came up faster than either Mel or I had expected, but it was none the less welcome, and my last twenty-four hours as a single man went something a little like this:
12:30
P.M.
Took the afternoon off work and met up for a drink because Mel said I wasn’t allowed to go out the night before the wedding, as the previous Thursday’s stag do resulted in a ten-week ban from the Haversham. Dan, Charlie, myself and various other mates headed to the Haversham wearing joke-shop false mustaches.
3:10
P.M.
Landlord of Haversham saw through disguises instantly, and we were escorted off the premises. We headed for the Newton Arms, in Tufnell Park, the definitive old man’s pub—Woodbines behind the bar, no carpet on the floor and grumpy-looking old men just about everywhere. We spent the afternoon drinking bitter, laughing ourselves silly and smoking Woodbines with aforementioned grumpy old men.
6:00
P.M.
Mel’s official cut-off point. As responsible best man, Dan let me know it was time to go. We all agreed that it was indeed time to go home.
6:10
P.M.
Okay, just the one.
7:10
P.M.
After this next one we’re off. I mean it.
7:30
P.M
.
No, really.
8:10
P.M.
Just as we were finishing what we promised ourselves would be our last drink, Charlie’s mobile began an annoying electronic rendition of the “William Tell Overture.” He answered it, expecting it to be work, but it was Vernie trying to find out where we were. Thinking on his feet, he told her that we were just on our way home, but his cover was blown by Dan and two of his new octogenarian best buddies, Albert and Reg, singing “Can’t Smile Without You” at the top of their hoary voices. Needless to say, Vernie pulled a strop, yelled loud enough for us all to hear and slammed the phone down. Now it really was time to go.
8:15
P.M.
Vernie called back and threatened Charlie with all manner of torture should anything untoward happen to me before my wedding.
8:32
P.M.
Dan, Charlie and I said our goodbyes to Albert and Reg and all our mates and and then grabbed a taxi home. Despite our protests, the driver insisted on keeping his car radio tuned to an easy-listening station which happened to be playing back-to-back Phil Collins. Though he clearly did not know the words, the driver insisted on singing along to “Easy Lover,” twice forcing me to correct his completely inaccurate rendition of the chorus.
8:51
P.M.
Thanked the very nice waiter at the Star of the Punjab in Kentish Town for taking our orders (onion bahjees, chicken vindaloo, prawn korma and chicken sagwalla). It was all Dan’s idea. Honest.
9:01
P.M.
Vernie called Charlie on his mobile again and issued the severe reprimand: “If anything happens to make Duffy late, ill or unpresentable tomorrow, you will never ever see me naked again in this or any other lifetime.” For the sake of Charlie’s sub-duvet activities we asked the waiters to hurry up.
10:15
P.M.
Taxi arrived at the Star of Punjab and we bid fond farewells to Harpreet, Hassan and Steve, the Star of Punjab waiters. As they waved their goodbyes, they promised faithfully that they’d come to the wedding as I’d requested. We got the taxi to drop Charlie off in Crouch End first. Vernie came out the minute we pulled up, gave Charlie her best Death Ray look and peered into my eyes. “I don’t want my brother looking haggard on his wedding photos!” she berated loudly and then handed me a Clarins bottle. “It’ll reduce puffiness around the eyes,” she added sagely.
10:25
P.M.
Dan and I arrived back at the flat. Our good moods in full swing, we decided to invite Will and Alice, the couple who lived in the flat beneath us, to the wedding in a gesture of niceness. At first they looked at us strangely, but when I eventually managed to persuade them that although I was drunk I was telling the truth, they said they’d love to come. We also considered inviting the couple who lived in the flat above us, Matt and Monica, but Dan still held a grudge against them because he was convinced it was they who had called the police round to pull the plug on our New Year’s Eve party last year. I, however, was still overflowing with the milk of human kindness so I invited them anyway.
11:30
P.M.
Mammoth toast-making session. Dan and I toasted a whole loaf of Hovis just for the hell of it. Whilst opening a can of Red Stripe I had a brief tender moment with Dan. “You know, you’re all right for a northern toast-muncher,” he said, buttering a slice of toast. “And you’re not too bad yourself for a soft southern git,” I replied. Touchy-feely moment over, we slipped into the living room to consume the fruits of our labors.
12:03
A.M.
Asked Dan who the mystery guest was he was bringing to the wedding, and he refused to tell me yet again. He’d asked me a month ago if he could bring someone. I’d said yes of course, but when I asked who it was he went all furtive, so I didn’t bother asking again. Mel reckoned it was Fiona, the new girl who had just started working behind the bar in the Haversham. Charlie and Vernie were of the opinion he was bringing one of my ex-girlfriends as a surprise guest, but my money was on it being someone nobody knew—that was much more Dan’s style.
1:12
A.M.
Tiredness came over me in a massive wave so I retired to bed. Before I did so, I wrote down on a notepad, “Getting married tomorrow,” in case it escaped my memory, and then read and followed set of instructions pinned to my pillow by Vernie:
1. Set bedside alarm clock for 7:30
A.M.
2. Set Dan’s radio alarm clock on the floor next to the bed for 7:30
A.M.
3. Set Mickey Mouse alarm clock at the bottom of the bed for 7:30
A.M.
4. Call BT and ask for 7:30
A.M.
wake-up call.
1:22
A.M.
Attempted to sleep.
1:55
A.M.
Still not sleeping. Counted sheep.
2:28
A.M.
Ran out of sheep and began counting other farmyard animals.
3:30
A.M.
Called Mel and told her how much I love her. Her only reply was a very sleepy, “That’s nice.”
3:32
A.M.
I called Mel again in case she thought I was a crank caller. “Of course I knew it was you,” she said patiently. “Only you would do this to me!”
3:40
A.M.
Still unable to sleep, so I got up and flicked through Dan’s videos in the front room. Selected Dan’s car-boot-sale copy of
ET
to while away the early hours as I’d never seen it.
4:20
A.M.
Due to heightened emotional state caused by impending wedlock,
ET
had me in floods of tears. “Why are people so horrible? He only wanted to go home.”
4:30
A.M.
Fast-forwarded film to the end to make sure he wasn’t really dead.
5:21
A.M.
Satisfied with happy ending, I suddenly felt tired and went to bed.
7:30
A.M.
Multiple alarms woke me and probably everyone in North London apart from Dan. I felt awful and wondered if I was in fact dead. Went back to sleep.
7:45
A.M.
Woken by doorbell. Eyes barely open I made my way downstairs to discover Mum, Charlie, Vernie and baby Phoebe on the doorstep dressed up in full wedding gear. They all came upstairs and made themselves at home while I showered. When I emerged from the bathroom half an hour later, Mum was washing the dishes, Vernie was grilling sausages and Charlie had Phoebe on his lap and was watching
ET.
Dan, meanwhile, was still asleep.
9:00
A.M.
Cars arrived to take us to St Faith’s in Barnet. Estimated time of arrival: 9:30
A.M.
9:30
A.M.
Stuck in traffic. ETA now 9:45
A.M.
9:45
A.M
.
Still stuck in traffic jam. ETA now 9:55
A.M.
I managed to convince myself that Mel wouldn’t marry me if I was late, and that I’d be condemned to live with Dan until the day I died.
9:54
A.M.
Arrived at the church. Thankfully Mel hadn’t arrived yet. Mum kept checking my suit for fluff and dusted me over every thirty seconds like one of her prized Capo Di Monte figurines. Remembered to ask Dan if he’d got the ring. Few panicky moments when after checking every conceivable pocket and orifice he still couldn’t find it. Fortunately he discovered it on a piece of string around his neck just as I was about to kill him with my bare hands. Good man!
10:00
A.M.
Said hello to waiters from the Star of Punjab, Will and Alice and Alexa. No sign of the New Year’s No Noise Neighbors, or for that matter my fiancée. Spotted Dan behind a Vauxhall Astra in mid-snog with his mystery guest . . . none other than the Lovely Anne, Crap Greg’s ex-girlfriend. Hurrah for Dan indeed!
10:05
A.M.
Still no sign of Mel. Mum helpfully reminded me that it’s a woman’s prerogative to be late. Didn’t reply for fear of being unable to locate my inner Dalai Lama. Julie came over and introduced me to her new man and former pottery teacher, Leon, who lives in Notting Hill Gate. Leon handed me a large gift-wrapped box on behalf of Julie. I tried and failed to resist taking a crafty peek. Typical! Dinner set from Habitat.
10:15
A.M.
Managed to convince myself that Mel had got cold feet and had done a runner. My mum just shook her head and told me me to “stop being so ridiculous.”
10:21
A.M.
Mel’s car is spotted by Dan coming up the road. She loves me!
10:25
A.M.
Following a brief moment for explanation from Mel’s mum and dad (the car was stuck in the same traffic as us) we’re nearly ready to begin.
10:45
A.M.
Standing at the front of the church, I turned to see Mel on her father’s arm, striding up the aisle. It was like seeing her for the first time in my life all over again—that walk, that living breathing version of Chrissie Hynde singing “Brass In Pocket”—even in a wedding dress and six-months pregnant! When she reached me I whispered in her ear, “You look amazing,” and she beamed and whispered back, “Don’t say things like that, because I’ll only cry and I’m desperate to look calm and serene on the wedding video!”
10:55
A.M.
She said, “I do.”
10:57
A.M.
I said, “I do.”
10:59
A.M.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” said the man in charge. “You may now kiss the bride.”
11:00
A.M.
We kissed.
The Best Man
L
adies and gentlemen, on behalf of the bride and groom I’d like to welcome you to the wedding of Melanie Lara Benson, and of course, the one and only Benjamin Dominic Duffy! As best man it falls to me to come out with a lot of stuff about how wonderful the bride is and then crack a few jokes about the groom . . . and who am I to truck with tradition? No, seriously, although this is a happy day, in some way it’s a sad day, too, because I’m going to miss Duff. Over the last couple of years he has been the best flatmate ever. He is easygoing, reasonably house-trained and never ceased to amaze me with his ability to make lost fridge food edible simply by scraping the fur off it and shoving it into the microwave. Someone said to me this afternoon that I shouldn’t think of today as losing a flatmate, I should see it as gaining somewhere nice and clean to be invited for Sunday lunch—they may well have a point. Decent food apart, though, I hope I’ll also be gaining another friend as good as Duffy. Mel really is the best thing that has ever happened to him and I couldn’t think of a better person to hand over responsibility to for his supervision. And so, I ask you to join me in a toast to these two brave people—brave because no matter how much in love someone is, it is still a leap of faith to make the sort of promise they’ve made today and mean it. So I ask you to join me in raising a toast: to Duffy and Mel—Mr. and Mrs. Commitment.
The Bride
H
ello, everyone. Due to thousands of years of patriarchal oppression women have been denied the right to make speeches at weddings and make jokes at the groom’s expense. As a fully-fledged flexible feminist I’m not about to have my wedding day dictated to me by anyone—especially as I paid for half of it. Anyway, I’ve prepared a few words that I’d like to say. When Duffy and I first planned to get married, I’d had my heart set on a huge wedding. Now it’s me who is huge and not the wedding. But to be serious for a second, I’m glad we’ve done it small—just the people we love and care for most. I couldn’t have wished for a better day. Anyway, I’d like to thank everyone for coming: you really have made today a day to remember. I’d especially like to thank my mum and dad for all the hard work they’ve put into making this day a success, and Julie for being there for me, and Charlie and Dan for making sure that Duffy didn’t come to too much harm on his stag night; and to Duffy’s mum for everything she’s done, especially for sorting out the catering—you have her to thank for the wonderful Moroccan-style chicken starters. And finally, I’ve got a surprise for my husband. For the past few months he’s been under the impression that we’re having a band playing at this evening’s reception, but we’re not—we’re having the Derek G Mobile Disco Experience instead. And yes, Duffy, I made sure before I hired him that he’s got “Come on Eileen,” “Three Times a Lady” and even “The Birdie Song.” That’s all I’ve got to say really, but before I sit down, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank my husband, who is the most special person in the world . . . he’s kind, gentle and . . . and . . . a . . .