When it’s time for toasts, clink that fork on the glass and tell everyone, in the sissiest voice you’ve got: “Attention everyone, attention! I have something to say.
Tell all the old ladies at the punch bowl that you’re the happiest fag in the world.
#TASTEFUL GIFTS FOR GAY MEN CODE#
I am ordering you to violate Emily Post Criminal Code Section 2.8.1 and call Bridezilla and tell her there’s a mistake on your invitation, that you’re bringing a guest, that guy you’ve been dating for THREE FUCKING YEARS NOW, and you’re dancing with him, and probably even kissing him too. Especially when it involves your family-the 22-year-old cousin who is in her dreamland fantasy needs to know this debate applies to her. I am ordering all you Wedding Fags back into duty, not only for the inevitable second and third marriages that are coming, but also to torment the young ’uns. Something’s missing.” It made me wish I had been the “something missing” at her boring wedding, and that I’d spent the money on a trip elsewhere.īut boycott is not the marching order. “There’s just something… odd about going to a wedding of two guys. One of my married, supposedly liberal, certainly smart friends said she could see the point of those who opposed it: “Marriage is, I don’t know, it’s special,” she said. In the last year, as the snit of gay marriage has preoccupied the nation’s politics, I’ve felt a twinkling of the old outrage. Wedding Fag would, he concluded, have to resist the babies.
But babies have marched in to take up the slack-and how could someone as sentimental as Wedding Fag possibly resist all those babies? And all those showers and first birthdays? (“You would make a great dad,” more than one of my straighties cooed as I held her infant, leaving the implied if only you’d procreate, or, like those homosexuals I saw on “Frontline,” you could adopt-you know, there dangling like a rattle.) Wedding Fag spent years gamely attempting to be Pseudo-Uncle Fag, but one day he realized there were just too many babies. Now that my 40s are in sight, the risk of being invited to weddings all summer has happily tapered off they’ve become actually smaller (as opposed to optimistically being billed as smaller), and you can send your regrets without regrets.
This wan attempt at outrage passed, however, and Wedding Fag returned, with new efficiency: He jets in on the morning of the wedding (skips the rehearsal dinner), leaves after the reception if possible, and/or just sends cash.