27 September 2012


I was getting ready for a wedding a couple of weekends ago when it dawned upon me that I had répondez, s'il vous plait-ed -1 to nuptials where I only knew the groom and groom.

OK. That's OK. Isn't it?

I've been to parties where I don't know anyone and had a wail of a time. I'm funny. I'm vital. I'm also jacked up on whatever I can get my hands on before I double bolt the back door, but that's beside the point, this is a wedding: this is polite conversation about what you do and how do you know the happy couple, not whether we're gonna do shots off someone's tits later. I can't turn up with the wobbly boot on - it's three in the afternoon!

I'm not sure why I said no to the +1. I just have a thing about friends who invite people to weddings who don't know the couple getting married. So, you're my friends security blanket whom I have no emotional connection to but have to provide an expensive meal and unlimited supply of alcohol. Nice to meet you. Enjoy the buffet!

At least if your +1 is penetrating you there's more of an obligation to get to know them. Instead of some fag hag who's *only* there to laugh at your jokes and nod interested even if you aren't speaking.

So, that's why I declined the +1, but as I briskly walked along the South Bank, I thought, a giggling fag hag ready to buy into my hilarity would have been just the ticket.

I was late too.

I saw the boys walking along toward me with a photographer in tow.

"Please don't tell me I've missed it?"

"Yes, it's over. Just kidding! (my fag hag would have loved that one) Just head up those stairs and everyone is up on the second level."

I skipped up the stairs to meet a large group of finely dressed people made out behind double glass doors. Now, the door clearly said PULL, but the eternal struggle between my head and hand raged on and I pushed when I should have done the opposite and the door bounced back and hit me in the knee. Not sure how many people saw it, but I think even the 3.05 rivercat to Greenwich got a good view. Such a gracious entry. I walked straight to the back of the crowd like I had a purpose.

That purpose was alcohol.

I wouldn't have minded so much about the door in the knee but there were hot judgemental gays everywhere. Hot judgemental gays who all knew each other. Hot judgemental gays who weren't taking any new friendship applications.

I went to the toilet to compose myself. Unfo the toilet was near the glass doors, so I had to walk back through the crowd undoing all that purpose I had a crewed from my entrance. I hand towelled the beads of sweat off my forehead as I mentally practiced meeting people in my head.

I walked back to the alcohol and as I turned a lovely couple walked straight into my field of vision and started chatting. Thank goodness I had practiced meeting people in the bathroom not a minute before.

Once we got chatting it was clear that neither of them were willing to baby sit me for the rest of the afternoon. Mainly because the female walked away to talk to other people.

Then there were murmurs of an imminent commencement to the ceremony and people rushed to get seats. There was an awkward moment between the husband and I as to whether our friendship had developed enough for me to look for three seats together or if he would go it alone and grab two. His non-committal attitude to look with me suggested that I would be going it alone.

There was a single seat at the end of a row and I grabbed it.

The wife was walking back and I don't know why, but I mouthed to her that I was taking this seat. She so didn't give a shit.

I smiled at the couple next to me and said, "I don't think anyone wants to get too close to the action" eluding to the empty seats in the front two rows. "I don't think there's going to be audience interaction" was the reply. And with that he pretty much ended any interaction between these audience members.

After a hilarious and heart felt ceremony it was outside for the group photos. Great, I'll be Nigel no friends up the back. But then I met an old work colleague of one of the boys called Yvonne on the way down the stairs. I didn't want to seem too needy, but I had to ask if she knew anyone else at the wedding. She said she hadn't seen anyone and then looked over the assembling crowd. I was waiting for her to go, "There!" and then run off, disappearing into the throng, but she didn't and we stayed close by each others side, over-laughing at each others jokes like nervous teenagers on a first date.

I eagerly asked if she would be my +1 in lieu of our own +1's and she laughed like I had just cut a massive fart. Too much too soon, Laurence? Got to play this one cool.

I'm not sure why I fretted so much about being a -1, but weddings have a knack of highlighting your singledom. Like Valentines day or tandem bikes - they're for smug couples to proclaim they're togetherness.

Yvonne and I got over the awkwardness of the situation and in no time were giggling over multiple glasses of champagne. I actually preferred it to having a +1. I looked around at all the people and their +1's talking to other people with their +1's probably about the new trails they'd found for their tandem bikes and felt a bit sorry for them.

Yvonne and I were talking about Naomi Campbell's weave. I know, how fab!

As Yvonne and I split to go our separate ways for dinner we made a rendezvous for the dance floor later. Which we owned, leaving all the 1's and their +1's in our wake.

I didn't need a +1.

I had an Yvonne.

+ 148 champagnes.


  1. Nailed it! I'm sending Your link to SJP. Well her twitter and lets get this sow on the abroad. That Bitch Owes us after we had to Sit Through SITC 2! X

  2. Fuck You Spell Check


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