My sister's instructions were to wear a nice shirt. Something that didn't look like I'd, “just rolled out of bed.”
I tried to set her mind at ease, assuring her I almost never roll.
That day, I left work early. I changed my shirt in traffic while I sped to the courthouse.
It was a small ordeal, I hardly remember anything except the words, “Who gives this woman away?”
I answered for the entirety of my family. They kissed. Mama cried. Everyone shook hands. And then it was over.
No party. No dance bands.
The truth is, she deserved more. A proper ceremony, a dress, photographs, a honeymoon. What she got was
zilch, with a steaming side of jack-squat.
Well, I know that's just the way life goes. I'm not complaining about it. But sometimes, I like to imagine things.
For example: let's imagine I'm walking along a beach. I see a rusty bottle wash ashore. And, let's say I pick the thing up and give it a good scrub.
A genie pops out.
He says in a booming voice, "I am Genie Of The Seven Seas, who hath awakened me from thy slumber?"
And I say, "It is…