Daisy Bateman

The Main Event

That’s right, I was in Kansas City for a wedding, wasn’t I? A wedding which I, coincidentally, attended, which was handy, because I already had the dress. And the purse. And, most critically, the shoes.

The wedding in question was that of my friend Lisa (she of the apartment of the actual-Empire-State-building view) to her boyfriend Ryan, also known as “New York boy” or “Disco,” depending on which side of the aisle you were sitting on. So it was that a passel* of Techers put on their nice clothes and descended on a charming, if ever so slightly under-air conditioned suburban church to cheer them on. The ceremony was lovely, (which I would say even if it wasn’t, of course, but it was), with the traditional and personal mixed well and uncheesily. Lisa, being one of the approximately three people in the world who can actually pull off the long-grand-strapless wedding gown look was likewise (there’s that word again) lovely. Even the bridesmaids looked nice, and I do believe a fine time was had by all.
(I will say, though, if you are really that offended by the presence of religious content in a religious ceremony, performed in a church, then perhaps you would be better to just skip straight to the reception.)

Speaking of which, the reception was held in the main branch of the Kansas City Public Library. No, really, the actual library, with all the books and everything. But it’s also a big, grand, neo-classical (I think) building, with a main open area big enough for about a hundred and fifty people to eat dinner, dance and drink slightly too much. (I think I set a personal best for champagne consumption.) (Speaking of, I’m really sorry about that glass– I swear, I barely brushed it.) What’s more, it’s very well air-conditioned, which was good because, as I discovered after the ceremony that my lovely, shoe-and-purse-matching dress had developed mysterious dark patches in the armpitular region. Not lovely. But they went away, not that I would have really minded by the end of the evening, what with all the champagne.

As for the rest, I will say only that there was dancing, there was eighties music and there were photographers, and I am somewhat concerned. I will keep you updated on further developments.


*Yes, passel.

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