The Wedding Reception
If there’s one thing you should know about me it’s that I don’t like attending things. Going to any sort of people gathering usually ends terribly for me. What usually happens is I get drunk out of my mind, start being an asshole and get extremely talkative and handsy. Before you know it I’m surrounded by a bunch of annoyed, depressed and turned on individuals. So when I got invited to a wedding reception this weekend I immediately went out and bought 200 “I’m Sorry” cards with a frowny teddy bear holding a droopy flower on the front.
When I got to this wedding reception I almost immediately headed towards the bar. I figured I’d start ruining friendships and lives early so I could get it out of the way. With any luck I’d be kicked out in an hour so I could go back home to play video games and creepily text girls I barely know.
After I got my drink I started walking around the room, meeting people and shaking hands. Some people call this “being nice”, but I call it “picking my targets”. Then the unthinkable happened, I realized that they were, for the most part, really nice people. Usually when I go to these gatherings there are douchebags spread throughout who I can immediately hate without even hearing them talk. I have douche-dar.
After a little bit of talking to random strangers and long-lost relatives the most amazing moment of my entire life came up. I was standing outside the building when a woman I had never met came up to me. No, she didn’t say “I don’t know who you are, but you’re hot and I want you to bang my brains out.” She did, however, say “Hi Josh, nice to meet you. I read your stuff.” Holy fuck! Granted, I did know of her and when I saw her I recognized her from an internet avatar, but still, I felt extremely famous. Don’t ruin my moment, assholes.
Following the best experience of my life I was also met with the most frightening experience of my life. When I walked back into the building the entire room turned into a dance party. Before I knew it I saw my father, the groom, out on the dance floor doing the twist. I had never seen my dad dance before and I’m grateful for that. All I could picture for the rest of the night was ten dads surrounding me all doing the twist while I scream in horror and try to claw my own eyes out of my skull.
By this time I was getting drunk to the point where I couldn’t complete sentences. I’d be telling someone a story, then in the middle of it I would pause and think to myself “oh my god, this person is staring right at me” and panic until I just started saying random words that didn’t make sense. It went something like “so after I walked outside she came up to talk to me and (omg they’re on to me) sandwich, barbed wire, cream snacks, salad…” I’m pretty sure everyone I talked to at the end of the night thinks I’m a complete idiot, but I’m fine with that, because at least I’m a fucking famous idiot.
All in all I had a pretty good night. I drunkenly laughed until my face hurt staring at all the awkward dancers. I also got in a few good “zingers” on people and laughed at inappropriate times, like when I thought someone was telling me a joke, but it turns out they’re just an idiot. From the outside observer it may seem like I’m “growing up” or “becoming less of an asshole”, but I beg to differ. I think I’m becoming more cerebral with my hate. I’m actually able to act like a nice guy and become best friends with a person all the while destroying their emotional state with my sly, mean-spirited quips. It’s part of my training to become the first ever, “perfect asshole” (and I’ll say this joke only because if I don’t it’ll get said in the comments “‘perfect asshole’ would also make a great title for an anal virgin porn… Booooom! I’m funny!” There, you happy?).







