I went to a wedding last weekend in Ohio. The groom, Jay, is one of my best friends from college, and he married a girl he started dating during college, Chethra. At the age of 25, he is the first from our tight circle of friends to “go”. Needless to say, this was huge cause for celebration (for lack of a better word), and the recap can only be told with the help of pictures. My camera alone had close to 230 pics by the end of the weekend (surprisingly, I’m in a LOT of them).

(Note: This is the guy whose 3-day, 23-person bachelor party I went to in Las Vegas a few weeks ago. The bachelor party which, as you’ve likely already noticed, was never talked about on this blog. And probably never will be. Now, on with the story…)

Jay and his wife Chethra are both Indian, so it was largely a traditional Indian wedding. Most of us got into town Friday for the first event, called the ‘Sangeet’, which is essentially a pre-wedding reception. Officially, I think there’s supposed to be some sort of singing involved (and there may well have been at some point), but its pretty much held as a dinner party and meet-and-greet for the guests that have come into town early. There’s dinner, a DJ, a slide show, some dancing, and of course, a bar.

Even after a delayed flight and an incident involving leaving my wallet at the rental car counter, Sachin, Anushka and I still made it to the Sangeet without missing much of the festivities. Most of our friends from all around the country were already there, so it was quickly back to business as usual. “Business” meaning claiming the table closest to the bar and cracking jokes like “Rishi, its an open bar tonight, so no need to steal any bottles!” (would make sense if I had blogged about Vegas).

Jay and I in traditional Indian attire.

Its hard to tell from this picture, but mine has a flipped collar, something not normally seen in these kinds of outfits. When a friend asked me about it, I said “Its modern. East meets west. I’m cool like that.”

(I’m not.)

After the Sangeet, a bunch of us went down to one of the hotel bars, where the bride’s brother had reserved a bunch of tables for us. I’m not really sure if it was open bar or not, but I certainly drank like it was.

That’s my beer!
No, its my beer!
Mine!
NO! Mine!

OK fine, its your beer.

The unfortunate side effects of giving up control of your camera. Your ‘couple’ friends start acting weird. Seriously, what the hell is this?

Before I continue with the rest of the story, let me just fill you in on a little something about myself. I’m a dancer. No, I’m not one of those ‘formally trained’ types who does it for the ‘love of the art’. Rather, I’m one of those people that, given enough booze, enjoys cutting a rug. I’m not particularly good or bad (somewhere between Stephen Hawking and Justin Timberlake), but I am confident, and when in the company of good friends, good times, and good booze, I am extremely uninhibited.

So after a few Scotch-and-Diets (hey, its an Indian wedding) at the Sangeet, and a few more rounds of shots at the bar, I began dancing. And from what people (and pictures) tell me, I continued dancing all the way up to the ‘hospitality suite’, a room set aside for guests to enjoy drinks and snacks during downtime (essentially, a room set aside for us to hang out in between open bars).

Doing the ‘reverse grind’ with Anushka, Sachin’s girlfriend, as he looks on.

Note to ladies: I’m also good at the ‘inside spoon’.

(Not pictured: The multiple, yes- multiple, lap dances given to another friend’s girlfriend.)

Everyone else has stopped dancing.
Except me.

Everyone else has also changed their clothes.
Except me.

Coincidence? I think not.

(Did that make sense? I think not.)

My thoughts upon seeing this picture the following morning:
- What the hell am I doing?
- Hooraaaaay Beer!

It goes without saying that the next morning (which was only a few short hours away from that last picture) was not pleasant. While pounding coffee and OJ at brunch, those of us that woke up tried to piece together the events from the previous night, with the much-need help of the camera. Luckily the wedding ceremony didn’t start till 2:30, and after a brief battle with a toilet, I joined the late risers at a local bar for some ‘hair of the dog’ treatment.

I had to get back to the hotel a little early though, because the groom had assigned me the task of being an Usher, which mostly meant blocking off the first five rows of seats for his super-extended family. (In South Indian weddings, the groom’s family comes into the ceremony in a procession behind him.)

Like all Indian weddings, the actual ceremony was long traditional and boring boring. Luckily, the big ones are run almost like sporting events. You can come and go as you please, go to the bathroom, grab a soda, chat with your friends, play Brickbreaker, etc… Two hours later, the bride and groom are none the wiser. The non-Indian friends in attendance LOVED this.

After the wedding, the crowd split up and retreated to their rooms to rest, change clothes, and get ready for the reception. Obviously the friends of the groom convened in the hospitality suite for a pre-cocktail-hour cocktail hour.

No reason for this picture, other than the fact that I LOOK GOOOOOOD.

(Right?)

Friend’s girlfriends: Amish, let’s take a picture with just you and us!

Me: A pity picture for the guy without a date? Really? OK, fine.

Recognizing my good looks and hilarious wit, Jay tapped me to be one of the MC’s of the reception, along with Deepti, one of the bride’s best friends. Not gonna lie - I was on fire (in the politically correct, fun for all ages kind of way). Some choice jokes:

- “Just want to thank you all for coming out here tonight. You all look extremely beautiful. Especially the ladies, and even more especially, the single ladies…(pause for effect). Yes, if you haven’t quite figured it out yet, I am single, so maybe we can get to know each other tonight.”

- “I’ve been worrying all week about doing this MC thing, and in the excitement I completely forgot to buy you a gift. I went to the registry two nights ago but everything was already taken. I guess that’s good for you, Chethra, but Jay, it doesn’t look like you had much of a say in what went on there… Anyway, I just bought you a card (pull out card from jacket). Its not really signed yet though, so I’ll get it to you later.”

- Co-MC: “How about that dinner, huh?”
- Me: “I know! Saag Paneer? More like AWESOME Paneer. No? How about AWESOME Kofta? No?…. (taps microphone) Is this thing on?

- Not used: “Saag Paneer… looks the same going in as it does coming out!”

Deepti and I doing our thing.

I just went back and re-read my jokes, and DAMN. I. am not. funny.

Our Michigan “Indo” crew. Minus one tragic, fallen comrade.

(That’s you, Jay)

After dinner, it was straight to the dance floor.

Note the Bud Light in my hand. This is because me, a dance floor, a woman’s sari, and a glass of wine do not go well together. I learned this the hard way.

(Note: I also learned that me, a dance floor, a woman’s sari, and a Bud Light do not go well together either.)

Friend to girl: Hey you hungry?
Girl: Not really…
Me: Sure you don’t want…a sandwich?

In case there’s still any question as to whether or not I met a lady this weekend, the answer is “Obviously not.”

I think this picture was taken during the danceoff between me and Jigar (the guy in the background and in the sandwich picture above). I’m not exactly sure what move this is, but I’m pretty sure I won.

Key move: During the pass-the-pretend-ball-around portion of the dance off, I pretended to grab it, spin it into the air, catch it on my finger, flick it a few times to keep it going, and then glance at my watch like I was bored. Brought the house down.

Sachin turned 25 at midnight, and like the Dope M.C. that I am, I gave him a little shout out on the mic. This questionably-hetero hug followed shortly after.

After the reception, there was obviously more partying in the hospitality suite. Friends of the bride and groom came in droves, and…. well I don’t remember much else.

Good God. Look at this face. This happy, but hideous face. No wonder I’m still single.

Note to self: There’s usually a reason for the no-shot rule during the reception. Trying to get around it with “Jack and coke, without the coke…or ice” is not a good idea. Even if it works. More than once. I mean, just look at yourself, Amish.

All in all, it was a great weekend. I got to catch up and party with all of my old college buddies and Jay’s hometown friends, and knowing the bride and her friends made the celebration twice as fun. Every part of the weekend, from the Sangeet on Friday night to the brunch on Sunday morning, was thrown exceptionally well. It was great to be a part of it, and it certainly went by too fast.

(Not that I want to see another one anytime soon. There’s nothing like a wedding - the slide show, the ceremony, the first dance, all that kissing, the lack of invitation for a date because they know you’re the furthest thing away from anything that would be considered a relationship and would rather save money on a plate - to make you feel incredibly lonely.)