The beau recently joined a couple of fellow teammates to discuss the goals of the upcoming rugby season. Being ruggers, nature dictated that they meet at a bar. What nature got blindsided by was: Weddings.
“They asked me if we had picked our colors yet,” he confessed to me, afterward.
Full disclosure: the two guys he met with just happen to be getting married next year, too. One in January, one in June. But back to the story.
“What did you say?” I asked incredulously. I mean, these are guys. Who play rugby.
“I said, well, I don’t think we’re having any colors. And they were like, why? It’s not hard to pick out colors. And I said, we thought we’d just go with whatever we like, and it would work out. We figure we don’t need to worry about matching things to everything else.”
He started munching on a piece of smoked gouda, leaving me trying to stare the rest of the story out of him. There was a punchline coming, I knew it.
“And S. said, please have your fiancée call my fiancée and tell her this. Really. Please.”
“What else did you talk about?” I asked, still slightly dubious.
“Oh, you know,” he said airily. “We talked about where we were getting married, and our caterers. Oh, and paper samples. For invitations.”
These are guys. Who play rugby.
Of course, they weren’t necessarily talking about all this wedding crap with dead sincerity. The beau’s teammates also shared a couple of eye-rolling anecdotes about their fiancées’ impossible dedication to trivial wedding details. You know, the kind of jokes you hear delivered on your average cable sitcom. Just another obsessed, irrational bride! Just another beleaguered, estranged groom. Cue the canned laughter.
He smiled at me. “All that stuff they were saying made me realize how lucky I am to have you for my fiancée.” Meaning, I am so glad you don’t fret over paper weight and agonize over color schemes.
I looked at him, thinking about his enthusiasm and excitement for the wedding planning process thus far. Thinking of how we’re both putting in equal amounts of effort and getting all geeked up about ideas (me: “what if we had a TRAMPOLINE” him: “AWESOME”). Meaning, I am so glad you’re not disinterested and remote.
I smiled back. Me, too. Me, too.