Wedding

First wedding I have been to on a Sunday. Also first entirely secular wedding I have been to. It was held at a country hotel that had formerly been the Officers' Mess of an RAF base.



Above: confetti scattered on the red carpet leading up to the hotel entrance.

I was a bit late getting to the hotel, which was a two-hour drive from my home. I arrived just as the bride was stepping out of an antique white Rolls Royce, and I had to dash across her path to get into the building. Far from ignoring this bad time-keeping the bride (who is a friend of a friend) called out to me, which presented me with a quandary - do I stop and chat to her and effectively go in with the procession, or do I scuttle in ahead?

I gave a weak wave of acknowledgement and rushed on in.

Not being part of the main reception party I was directed into the wedding salon which was a big room filled with chairs arranged theatre-style. The blinds were closed at the windows and the room was lit by candles. White flowers everywhere, love-songs by Patrizio Buane playing over the sound system.

About eighty guests were sat down, with another twenty or so standing up (with official duties). Hardly any of the women wore hats, but instead wore fascinators, which resembled 1980s deeley-boppers. Because I was so late I had to sit at the back.

The actual ceremony took about half an hour, and after the formal registration we were asked to wait in our seats while various photographs were taken.

I was sat between two women who knew each other, and they talked over me.

"First wedding I've been at where I havn't had to sing anything" said woman one.

"They don't know the words" said woman two (who apparently was a teacher). "They don't teach hymns at school anymore. The kids don't even know the words of the national anthem."

When we were allowed to get up everyone filed into the entrance hall where drinks were served (also cups of coffee). Then about an hour of waiting around while the photographs were taken. A big group photograph was taken outside, all the men having to get down on one knee as if we were a football team, the gravel wet.

Interminable long line of welcome.



Above: my place setting.

The wedding breakfast was held in the hotel dining room (the whole building was closed for the event). Because everyone I knew was on the top table I sat at a table of strangers, although I soon got to know them. The food was very good, and because the staff kept bringing out "extras" I had everything that was going.

Champagne for the toasts. The speeches went on for about an hour. By this time it was 6pm.

As people drifted away from the dining room I wandered into the ballroom. Gaming tables had been set up at the bar, and I played Black Jack for about an hour until I had lost all my chips. Then I talked to friends for about another hour, not going anywhere near the dance floor.



Above: photograph I took as I walked away from the hotel.

Because I was due to start a new job the next day I didn't want to stay too late. I looked around for the bride, but she must have been resting in her room so I said goodbye to the bridegroom (the first time I had properly spoken to him). The music grew fainter as I walked through the damp shrubbery to the car park.

All sorts of questions

This morning before I went to work I drove into the small town near where I live to have my six-monthly dental check.

The surgery (one of several grouped together) is in a big red-brick Victorian building that was probably once an hotel. Inside it has been completely modernised and received the attentions of an interior designer. The Reception area doubles as the main waiting room. A semi-circular Reception desk half fills the space, decorated with opaque tubular lights. Seating, vitrines displaying dental merchandise, and small tables loaded with magazines completed the furnishings. I gave my name to a Receptionist and was asked to wait.

I took a seat in the corner from where I could see end-on the Reception desk, so that the staff were in profile. Four young women were behind the counter, all of them aged in their early-twenties, slim and attractive, well made-up. All of them were blonde (not sure whether they were all genuine blondes, one did look a little improbable).

Their blondeness surprised me, since the incidence of blondes in the general population is not 100% (the genetic mutation that caused blondeness occured eleven thousand years ago during the last ice age). I wondered whether the dental practice had a discriminatory recruitment policy in place. There were no other patients in the waiting room, and I could hear clearly their conversation - one woman was describing in needless detail how her foot had been stepped on at a party by another woman and the repercussions that resulted from this.

After about ten minutes, the doors to the street opened and a man came in, aged about twenty-five, medium height. From his physique and clothes he seemed to be a construction worker (his heavy boots were spattered with clay). His very short hair was also yellow-blond.

His appearance silenced all of the women. Leaning against the counter he said he wanted to collect the next stage of a course of antibiotics. His demeanour was quiet, but also displayed a degree of confidence I find difficult to analyse.

One of the receptionists immediately said "It's Fox, isn't it?"

The man's expression must have expressed surprise as she amended her statement by saying "I recognised the face".

The man then said "I'm a lucky man" - said deliberately and quietly, ignoring the other three women looking on.

The incident sufficiently impressed me so that I felt I had to write it down as it happened. I hope to add other examples, and build up a picture of these interactions. All sorts of questions arise from this slight connection.