“Marriage is a moderately sacred institution. In theory, at least.”
“Standing here, looking out on all these lovely people who have gathered here to witness your special day–John’s father and mother, and their respective spouses, Michelle’s father and mother, and her aunt-stepmother, and the near-legion of step-grandparents and half-siblings–you have to wonder if it’s worth it. I mean, do any of these people look happy? Kidding. I’m only kidding. In addition to officiating at weddings, I also do stand-up comedy. I’m performing this evening at the Laff Bucket in East Hartford.”
“The ring is a symbol. Of your pledge to one another. It is a circle, which means eternity. Not literally, of course, because you can take it off. You can take it off and pawn it for rock cocaine and tell your wife you lost it and collect the insurance money and do it all over again. Make sure to schedule it on your homeowner’s insurance.”
“Michael, look at your bride. How beautiful she is. And know that unless she gets some kind of wasting illness, she will never fit into this dress again. Like, probably by the end of the reception, she will not fit in this dress. She can barely breathe. And I’m fairly sure she hasn’t eaten in a couple of weeks. Seriously, April. When we first spoke about my performing the ceremony six months ago, you were a healthy size eight. Now, you’re what? A zero? A junior miss?”
“Man, you guys are going to have some beautiful, curly-haired kids. What? Why are you crying? Oh. Wow. Sorry. So sorry.”
“I just feel so honored to be standing here today. Sure, I would prefer to be standing where Mitch is standing–I had a thing for Christie in high school–but it’s okay. Sure I’ll never get married unless I leave the priesthood–and that’s not going to happen until my mother dies, because it would kill her–but I’m married to God, so that’s something. Well, not literally married to God, that’s only nuns, and we know that the Catholics will never ever ever sanction gay marriage, although I’m not sure if being married to God would make me gay–no homo–and but I guess my vocation must be female, then, since I’m married to the priesthood? So priests are all men, but the plural of priests is feminine? Ah, Latin, am I right? With the weird rules? So crazy.”
“Place the ring on her finger. No, slower. Yeah. Like that. That’s good. That’s real good.”
“Who gives this woman to be wed? You? Her mom? What, did her dad die? It’s just, it’s a little unusual. One of those deadbeat dads, huh? Well, does she not have any other male relatives? I’m not talking to you, sweetie. You’re property that’s being exchanged. I’m talking to your very liberated mom right now. Nice pantsuit, mom. By the way.”
“Marriage is an institution insisted upon by both society and legal precedence. And the Matrimonial Industrial Complex, of course.”
“Weddings are a cause for joy. And for celebration. And open bars. And regrettable actions. Groomsmen, bridesmaids, I’m looking at you.”
“As she places the ring on your finger, John, think about how perfectly it fits. As if it was made especially for you. Now, if dozens of other guys had also worn that ring, perhaps several in the same night, it probably wouldn’t fit the same. Although if the ring didn’t fit, it might not be the ring’s fault. It might be a virtuous ring that’s just a little big. That happens. Also, you might have small fingers.”
