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Copyrights reserved by the author. If you are in doubt, please click on 'Copyrights' and read the details. Why I'll never forget whatshisname. By J. G. Fabiano My father used to tell me that to achieve happiness in life one just has to survive the bad times and enjoy the hell out of the good. Unfortunately, it's more confusing than that, and what are supposed to be the good times can leave you feeling really bad. Like the recent visit of my daughter and her fiancé to look at places around York that would be suitable for her wedding reception. My daughter is a beautiful 25-year-old woman who lives in Boston and works as a para-legal. Her fiancé is a hard-working young man who obviously loves her and whom, I am ready to believe, will take care of her in the manner to she expects for the rest of her life. It was a visit that should have been wonderful for all of us. A day filled with exciting plans and bright expectations. What could possibly go wrong? When my daughter and her fiancée got to the house I was upstairs getting ready. I wanted to create a good impression everywhere we went so everybody would know I was serious about getting the very best for my only daughter, and I just wanted to look good for a day I thought would be memorable. So, I put on a sports jacket and I even found a pair of new socks that had been buried under my old socks for the past 10 or 12 years. As I was walked downstairs I heard my daughter, her fiancée and my wife making happy talk in the kitchen. This stopped the moment I walked into the kitchen and a distinct coolness filled the air. One minute my daughter was perched on the kitchen counter, smiling and happily swinging her legs but the minute she saw me the smile vanished, her hair turned into writhing green snakes and her eyes burned into my soul as if trying to turn me to stone. "What do you mean you don't think an open bar is a good idea?" she asked acidly. Her fingernails seemed to have become talons ready to tear my flesh at the slightest provocation. I said I didn't think an open bar was a good idea because I didn't want to be responsible for anybody who had too much to drink at the reception. My daughter responded by leaping down onto the floor as if she was about to attack me and I quickly jumped back. I told her we had a lot of appointments to keep and we should talk about it later. She turned and walked out of the kitchen with her fiancée in tow, leaving me alone with my wife. I looked to my wife for support and she looked back at me as if she wanted to turn me into a toad. I figured I had just set a new record. Just by showing up I had made everybody in my family miserable. "Yes," my wife said. "We will talk about it later." It was a two minute drive to our first appointment but it felt longer. Normally, I would crack a joke or two to put everybody at their ease but every time I went to open my mouth my wife stared daggers at me and said: "Shush." "Maybe they would like ---" "Shush." "It's such a nice d---" "Shush." "I wonder if---" "Shush." "I think I'm on fire---" "Shush." When we arrived at our first stop we were met by a woman with the build and personality of a drill sergeant and I realized that planning a wedding was a lot different to what I thought it would be. The woman looked at me with a combination of amazement and disgust as if I had just materialized in front of her out of pond scum. I opened my mouth to introduce myself and my wife said "Shush." I wondered what would happen if I tried to breathe through my mouth. Then something truly astonishing happened. My wife and daughter pushed me aside! And I don't mean a little push either. I had to grab onto the draped to stop myself from falling over. I looked at them in amazement. They had pushed my aside as if I didn't matter at all --- like I shouldn't even be there! I looked around and saw my son-in-law had already retired to a safe distance. He was over in a corner pickling quietly at a cheese plate. I went over to join him thinking that maybe my son-in-law had already shown how much smarter than he was. I went to pick up a cracker and he looked at me and gave a small shake of his head. I looked blankly back at him. He looked at the cracker in my hand and shook his head again. I looked at the cracker in my hand and then I got it. Too much noise! I put the cracker down, picked up a cube of cheese and nibbled at it silently, like a mouse. We weren't necessary for this part of the process. Hell we probably weren't supposed to be there at all except as animated furniture to show our support. This was a wedding movie for, by and about women and we were only extras. Silent extras. I looked at my future son-in-law and we exchanged nods of mutual understanding. We were bit players in the marital calvalcade. He knew it, how come I didn't know it? The discussion between my wife, daughter and the drill sergeant, who was absolutely charming to them, lasted about an hour. After I had ingested about a pound and a half of cubed processed cheese the drill sergeant summoned me into her office. I entered fearfully with my wife and daughter sitting there looking daggers at me to make sure I didn't screw anything up. The drill sergeant/wedding arranger needed to ask a few questions, she said. Nothing too complicated, just phone numbers and addresses, references, bank balances, shares, annuities, stocks, bounds, retirement plans, collateral, how much I owed on my mortgage, that kind of thing. I hadn't realized that planning for a wedding meant giving up more information than if I was going into hospital to have a heart transplant. Except, I guess, this was something similar. I was going to have a wallet transplant. Then the wedding arranger got to the really hard questions. What was the last name of my son-in-law? I stared back at her, speechless. I hadn't the faintest idea. It was gone, like I had never known it. Completely and utterly banished from my head. She kept staring at me, the seconds lengthening into minutes. My mouth opened and closed a few times but nothing would come out. I had dried up completely. My wife and daughter stared at me in increasingly horrified silence. I couldn't remember his name - the man my daughter was going to marry. I couldn't remember his name. I was the weakest link. "Mike," I said at last and looked around desperately. "His name --- is Mike." The wedding arranger gave my wife and daughter a sympathetic smile. My daughter stifled a small sob. "Go and wait in the car," my wife said. I opened my mouth to say something. "Shush," my wife said. I got up and went to the door then turned around to offer at least some semblance of an apology. "Shush," my wife said. I gave Mike an abashed smile as I shuffled past him on my way to the car. I paused for a minute and opened my mouth to say something --- then I realized he would hear about it soon enough. So, I just kind of shook my head. He grinned and shook his head too as if to say: 'Women, what can you expect?' As I waited outside I tried to look on the bright side. At least this time it wasn't because of something I said. The End
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