“Oh, don’t worry! It’ll happen to you someday!” God you are annoying.
“He did it on a boat, and I had literally no idea he was going to propose! He picked out the ring I wanted too!” No idea he was going to propose? Really? He’s some mind reader then?
“…and when he proposed I swear he had tears in his eyes!” Gag me. Now.
“Will you be my bridesmaid???” How much champagne are we talking?
As many of us do, I get hella sick hearing the same engagement lines delivered over and over again. But I must admit, no matter how salty I am when Ally or Jackie or the out-of-state cousin I never see talks about her engagement, I still love weddings. I really do. There’s champagne, cute kids that are unsure why they’re walking down the aisle, guys in suits, a chain of whores loyally standing behind the bride mentally fucking those men in suits, and two lovebirds tie the knot and begin to share bank accounts or whatever. It’s a fucking jolly good ol’ time. Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn are practically my idols in Wedding Crashers. They have the happiest of times mounting hot chicks and shoving wedding cake down their throats at strangers’ weddings. What can possibly beat that?
But what about those of us who don’t have someone down on their knee holding a three-carat ring? Aren’t we supposed to be the backbone of these relationships? I mean, after all, we are the ones who told you that you looked like Britney Spears circa 2007 before you left the house on your second date to spare you the embarrassment. We threatened your now-fiancé that if he ever hurt you he would wake up one day ass naked in Canada tied to a grocery store light pole sitting in a bucket of ice. We deserve some credit/fun too. We practically shaped your relationship. All I ask is that if you’re having a wedding, I want in on as many wedding shenanigans as possible. Is that too difficult? I think not.
When I see that my friends on social media who are balls deep in a relationship decide to take that next step and commit, my instant reaction is “Is she in it for the money?” Then I begin to wonder if they will still be together long enough to die facedown in their pudding just moments from one another. If I decide they will do as such, then I move on to congratulating them and popping the champagne. If I get the general impression that their marriage is easily doomed, I pour some whiskey to drown out their future sorrows for them, as a true friend does. Either way, if someone in my close-ish friend group (no matter how “close” we are), my wedding-loving ass is pouring one or two or eight drinks. I will slaughter a few bottles for them the second I get asked to be a bridesmaid (because duh, who doesn’t want me in their wedding?).
Really, I am just trying to make the most of your engagement as I can while you are off being preoccupied figuring out which “Save the Date” font to use. Seeing as I’ve played an important role in your relationship this far, I have taken the honor of continuing to make your engagement memorable. I’m not one to blackout all the time (because, ya know, maturity and shit), but on special occasions, such as weddings, somebody needs to make sure the whole engagement process stays upbeat and is celebrated as much as possible.
And dammit, I’m up to that challenge.
I’ll try to “celebrate” those engagement photos as often as I can before I get liver cancer just so you know how special your future marriage really is. When you see me holding a bottle of José Cuervo and white girl twerking on a pool table at a smokey bar, it’s in honor of you and your fiancé. When I take shots I will no longer chant, “Cheers to being pretty, cheers to being naturally pretty, and cheers to never looking bad.” I will now holler, “Cheers to you, Margo, for roping in a guy with a nice dick!” So if he puts a ring on it, continue to alter your dress and hand me the whole damn bottle of cheap champagne. I’ll celebrate your engagement as often as I can if it’s the last. thing. “I do.”.
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