Everybody needed a gift for the
hard work they put into making the wedding come about. This included the best
man and groomsmen, who, relative to the bridesmaids, came out pretty well
considering that their preparation activities consisted of the following:
- Not scheduling another activity that day (which only really required about forty-eight hours notice)
- Going to get measured for their tuxes (at most, ten minutes drive time and maybe fifteen in the store)
- The last-minute task of bringing some food and beverage to the pre-ceremony (Chex Mix wasn’t that big of an out-of-pocket expense.)
Every few days, between mid-July
and about a week before the wedding, Christa and I had the same conversation
about these gifts. (My noncommittal answers are verbatim.)
“Do you know what you’re getting as
gifts for your guys?”
“Most likely,” I replied.
“Are you actually going to purchase
them soon?” she asked intently.
“They’re not going anywhere,” I
said, brushing off her concern.
“Who’s not?”
“The gifts, in case I think of
something better.”
“Why are you waiting for something
better? Just get them.”
Detecting
annoyance. Go abstract.
“Shopping is an art.”
For her, this was, yet again, the
noncommittal hell of living with me. I thought my gifting was fairly
independent of her, and she should know that I always had the High Life backup
plan, ready at a moment’s notice.
For those interested, this plan
consists of waiting until the last minute to buy a required gift. If your
original choice is no longer available, you simply replace the intended gift on
a per-dollar basis with 32-oz. bottles of Miller High Life (The Champagne of
Beers), rent an unmarked station wagon, set up a meeting in a dimly lit parking
lot, and make the exchange far from the judging eyes of your intended.
Why
couldn’t I invest some time surfing the Internet to compare prices? Need I reiterate
the time-value of money?
“If I can delay the purchase and,
therefore, the transfer of cash, I can theoretically earn additional interest
on that money,” I added, since financial theory always calms her.
“What interest? Is it worth four
cents to annoy me to death?” she asked, hoping her annoyance would end soon.
“The longer you can delay a
decision, the more information you can gather, in order to assess the options
available to you,” I stated, as the annoyance continued.
“Maybe I should consider my
options a little longer. A lifetime of annoyance or…”
“Or a life of infinite joy with me.
Thank you for that clarification,” I interjected.
Some people may wish to know that I
purchased some man bags, courtesy of the always fashionable and neutral Army of
Switzerland, loaded with cigars, a prerelease of the Lobster CD (our wedding
favor) and Invisible Cards (waterproof, transparent playing cards), perfect for
playing in the presence of potentially spilled liquid (infer here 32-oz. Miller
High Life.)
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival
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