It was finally the day of my wedding. I had been in a May-December relationship with Keegan for a long time—we even had a baby together—and in a little while, our relationship would finally become a marriage.
That morning, I left Keegan with the baby, along with the responsibility of bringing my dress to the reception hall while I went ahead to see how everything was coming along. On the drive to the hall with my friend Laura, I was being bombarded with phone calls and text messages, of which I tried answering and arranging everything as calmly as I could, until my iPhone froze on me. Completely froze. There was nothing I could do to get it to work again, and out of all days. I smashed the phone off of the dashboard repeatedly until the airbag sensor dinged on my car. The irony of it all was absolutely hilarious to us.
We finally arrived at the hall 45 minutes later. The moment we made it to the entrance of the building, we were being interrogated. Who’s sitting where? How are the tables being arranged? Where will the cookies be? Shit, we forgot the cookies. Fortunately, Keegan was still at home and could grab them. Where will the cakes go? Shit, we forgot those, too. We really weren’t thinking too clearly and only managed to bring the decorations this morning—that’s what happens when you try to plan a small, low-key wedding.
The caterer arrived shortly after as we were all inside trying to work out the table arrangements. We had to move everything around to accommodate the caterer and by the time we were done, guests had already started to arrive.
My bridesmaids were working on their hair and makeup and the groomsmen were all starting to get dressed when one of them, Richard, came running at me screaming, “Vivian! LOOK! I am so sorry! They gave me the wrong color suit! Look at this shit!” Richard, at six-foot-four, looked like a massive eyesore in a ridiculous purple and black suit with hot pink highlights down the sides of the pants and on the vest. I was mortified. All I remember thinking was, “This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening…”