Wedding Crashing

Any wedding with an open bar

I’ve always heard people say that when you turn a certain age, weddings become the new bar or bat mitzvahs. When you’re the token Christian at age 13, the Jewish ceremony is pretty awesome – you get to memorize new dance crazes (the booty dance, electric slide, love shack, etc.), chomp into some delicious cake and make memory glasses for your honored friends, all while never actually understanding a word said during those long services. I particularly remember one bat mitzvah reception where I managed to sneak a sip of wine with a few perpetrators – we figured we must have been drunk so we went around acting crazy the rest of the night. I guess I’ve always had a soft spot for alcohol.

As we mature, we move from bar mitzvahs to just bars, relationships grow and lead to engagements and we eventually put our bachelor status to rest with a wedding. This past weekend I accompanied my sister to her boss’ wedding since her boyfriend was out of town. I wasn’t all that excited to spend a gorgeous Saturday indoors watching women sob over vows, but I knew she would owe me big for this one and having that leverage is always a plus in my book.

I immediately regretted my decision to go as soon as I walked into the party. Not only did I not know another soul, but as I looked around I also realized that I was the only person there under 23-years old and single – great. Greeted at the reception by servers offering massive amount of classy drinks, I figured it was only polite that I accept the occasional glass of champagne (or five). One gene my sister seems to have been shorted on was the ability to drink. After her first glass, I noticed her Irish reds were already out and her eyes were a bit glazy. About 10 minutes later, she seemed to have forgotten I was her date and cornered me out of every conversation she was engaged in with her co-workers. If I was going to survive this night, I needed to go find those people offering drinks immediately.

Screw the champagne – I went straight to the bar and ordered vodka on the rocks, with an olive for good measure, of course. Since I was annoyed with my “date,” I decided to make my own friends and maybe even network a little, seeing as how I have no idea what I’m going to do after I graduate and having a resume that only says “Bar Belle” can’t be too impressive.

I scanned the crowd and, all of a sudden, my heart stopped. I kid you not, standing before me with his beautiful hair flopping about and his lengthy body goofily gyrating to the band was none other than Conan O’Brien. After I got over one of my infamous blushing attacks, I quickly turned back to the bar, ordered a gin and tonic and downed that drink faster than you could say “horny manatee.” I needed a good line, one that separated me from those gawky annoying fans but that didn’t make me a pretentious snob. I thought up the perfect opening comment.

Before I tell you what I said, you have to understand. I had now consumed two glasses of champagne, a glass of chardonnay, vodka on the rocks and a gin and tonic within a half hour. Hey, you try to stand alone at a wedding and resist the urge to drink.

So now that we have the context of my comment down maybe you won’t judge me as much. And so, I approached the funniest guy of late-night comedy with, “You have fabulous hair!” to which he chuckled and said, “Thanks.” I stood there awkwardly for the next couple seconds and realized I hadn’t planned out my line of attack well enough. I had nothing left to say, so I bowed clumsily and bounced away from my Irish chum (we’ve met now so I can legally call him that) in search of more wine to make me feel better about my brief celeb encounter.

The rest of the night was pretty boring compared to those magnificent moments (OK, fine – seconds) spent with Conan, but I have to tell you I’m not sure wedding crashing would have lived up to its name had I not met him. I’m willing to give weddings another chance, given that (a) I didn’t know anyone, (b) I couldn’t even tell you who the bride or groom were and (c) there were no eligible bachelors. If every wedding I go to from now on offers the same celebrity guest list, however, then I’m all for it! I’m just not one for the huge hangover I woke up with the next morning.

In hangover sickness and health, I guess I’ll say “I do” to the new bar/ bat mitzvahs in my life.

Bar Belle Rating: three of four bells.