Hey, it turned out that getting married was the most fun I could have with my trousers on!
The ceremony went swimmingly, although I twitched a bit at that "marriage is a union between a man and a woman" stuff, and the reception rocked. Virtually everyone came (even my friend Simon showed up - two hours after the whole thing had shut down - but, hey, he showed!), and they all brought food and booze. So much so, in fact, that we had much more than we needed.
In the end we did hire some help, and while they weren't waitering or anything like that they worked their bloody asses off to keep everything running smoothly. That they weren't professionals made their professionalism all the more astonishing.
Led by my Mum, assorted mates and family members did an incredible job of decorating the venue (a beautiful and large 16th Century Tudor house). So successful were they, that one of the guests actually started crying as soon as she walked in.
The speeches were long promised, but delayed by our urgent desire to obtain a healthy dose of Dutch courage. When we did get round to performing, however, everyone was well lubricated and having a bloody good time, so it was an easy win. People belly laughed, people sobbed, and I felt very, very pleased with myself and my Best Man.
And there was lots of disco dancing and mingling.
I think people really loved it. We bloody did.
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