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The last decade or so has been a gauntlet. My finances have been strained. My feet have been battered. I’ve explained my job to people I’ll never see again about a million of times. I’ve woken up on dozens of hotel room floors and fallen in love with several bridesmaids only to find out they had a fiance who was out of town that weekend. I’ve been to Vegas, Scottsdale, New Orleans, Orlando and Austin for bachelor parties. Each year has been planned around nuptials and booze-fueled weekends in party towns.
Which is why I am happy to report that I do not have any weddings or bachelor parties to go to in 2018.
We’re now fully into February 2018 and I have not received a single save-the-date for Wedding Season 2018.
I love all of my friends and family. They are awesome. I’ve celebrated a life’s worth of new lives. I’ve been treated like royalty just because I was 6th on the groomsmen depth chart. Dined on the finest filets and baby vegetables. I’ve eaten more cake and done the YMCA more than I care to admit. I love wedding season, but by the time mid-June rolls around, I’m straight up exhausted.
Does this make me a loser with no friends? No. I’m pretty sure it makes me a millionaire now. I am gonna be swimming in it. Scrooge McDuck style. Believe me, I have no problem throwing down a grand or two on airfare, new suit, hotel and wedding gift for a dear friend and their soon to be spouse a few times a year.
What I also have no problem with is keeping all that money for myself because money is awesome. Gonna be great. I’m going to Disney World. Might just go by myself. Stay at the Grand Floridian. Treat myself. Surely no one will cast a judging eye on the solo 30-year-old strolling down Main Street USA.
I’m sure the gauntlet will fire back up eventually. Some cousins and fraternity brothers will continue taking the plunge and I’ll gladly attend, Visa gift card in tow, ready to cut a rug and drink all their booze…right?
Not gonna lie. It feels pretty liberating. But it’s also terrifying. Right now, I’m in the doldrums of winter. The days are cold and short. Sports suck right now. I’m sure that first 70-degree day is gonna hit me right in the face come March and I’m gonna stare longingly at my suits and tux, still wrapped up in cellophane from the dry cleaners. Distant echoes of “Shout” will ring in my head and I’ll undoubtedly feel a twinge of FOMO deep in my gut. I’m feeling it right now.
Now I’m in a full-fledged panic. Is this part of my life just over now? Will I ever taste wedding cake again? Will I ever give a half-drunk speech at a rehearsal dinner that brings the house down? Will I ever be on the receiving end of a knowing “I guess he’s the most decent looking single guy here” gaze from a bridesmaid? I need to ride the lightning one more time. This is not turning out the way I thought it was going to.
Goddammit, I spiked the ball on the one. This spring is gonna suck. Weddings are awesome. Someone throw something together real quick. Doesn’t even have to be that nice. Rent out a casino ballroom and hire a high school kid to play Earth, Wind and Fire all night. Jesus, what have I gotten myself into? Anyone up for a boys trip to Nashville? South Beach, maybe? God, please. Anything to make me feel alive. Someone take this medium amount of money I’ll save. It won’t truly make me happy.
What have I done? WHAT HAVE I DONE? .