Wedding

I flew out to San Diego for a friend's wedding. We weren't super close friends, but she invited me and my best friend was one of the bridesmaids.The wedding was going to be held in a photography museum at Balboa Park in March. 

Because my best friend was one of the bridesmaids I drove with her to the bride's house where we would all drive to the wedding together in a limo. The bride briefly lost her Tiffany engagement ring. It was found. The other bridesmaid needed tampons. They were retrieved by the wedding planner. Sea foam dresses were steamed, the bride's dress fit perfectly and everything seemed as though it was going as planned.

The ride to the museum was filled with nerves and fun.We jokingly drank from the champagne bottles and blasted music from the speakers. I attempted to take some photos for memories but failed at getting very many. This was a time before everyone had smartphones and cameras were still kind of an awkward device.

We arrived at Balboa Park and we then met with the wedding photographer. Because I wasn't a bridesmaid it was implied that I would entertain myself until the wedding began. I wandered into the museum cafe and ordered a coffee and a bagel. The bagel was dry and the coffee was too sweet. I sat and watched people studying or meeting with friends. I had manged to kill all of 20 minutes. I stayed in the cafe until I realized that they were closing up shop.

Texting my friend, I wasn't really sure where I should go. How long to wedding photos take anyway? Apparently they take a lot longer than I expected. My friend showed up asking if I was okay. Trying not to make this about myself I said I was, but I wasn't really sure where I was supposed to go. The cafe was closing, the arboretum was closing and I wasn't really up to walking around much in heels.

In hind site, I should have just taken my stupid shoes off and wandered around the park.

"Well, hold on. Let me figure this out," she replied curtly, "I'll get back to you."

Shortly after the wedding planner showed up and escorted me to a closest. A closet. 

"Is this okay? The photos shouldn't take too much longer." 

"Sure," I said. "I'll just wait here until the wedding starts." Inside, with the door closed, I found wedding relics that had been left behind. Shot glasses with Mr and Mrs Gonzales 07-14-07 written on them. Table cloths, fake flowers, Christmas lights and various glassware. I pocketed one of the shot glasses, and sat down on a folding chair.

I'm not really sure how long I waited in there. As it got closer to the start of the ceremony I opened the door and found my way to the theater where the wedding would take place. Thankfully other people had started to show up and seat themselves. 

I took a seat in the front row of the bride's side and I started to feel very excited even though I had felt mostly left out and forgotten. I was soon approached by an elderly woman asking who I was. I explained that I was a high school friend of the bride. She informed me that the front seats were for family only and that I needed to move. 

Annoyed was an understatement to how I felt. I flew here from Michigan. I had spent the past 2 days listening to my friend obsess over her spray tan, make up and whether or not she should bring a particular bag. I rode here with the bride. I helped her find her missing Tiffany ring. I waited in a supply closet. Now you're telling me I have to move because I'm not related?

Not saying a word, I moved to the back. I found my best friend's parents and sat with them. 

The bride walked down while an instrumental of a Cure song played. The groom cried, the bridesmaids cried. I did not. 

The rest of the night I watched while people got very drunk. My best friend included. She wanted to know if I was okay. She wanted to know why I was acting weird. She told me the bride felt bad for not asking me to be a bridesmaid.

I just wondered if the Gonzales' were still married.