PROGRAMMING LOVE

Making the ceremony program was another task involving complete freedom and many unwritten rules. Christa desired something pretty and unlike anything anyone may have seen recently. I thought the programs could be done well at home (read cheaply), and since programs were even more disposable than invitations, why not focus on content and not materials. How many have you saved?

I brought back the lobster for a little front-page symbolism.

Then I thought, “Why not two lobsters?”

The xylophone of genius had tinkled again. I made uni- and bi-lobster versions and e‑mailed them to Christa at work.

She turned to her coworkers and stated, “Don’t ask, but one lobster or two?”

It was two in a landslide. If you looked close enough, they were gazing into one another’s eye-like things, while also implying a reverence to a higher power.

I filled in the rest with some snippets of humor, to more humanly introduce the bridal party, and concluded with a salutation and photo of our favorite feline abductor with his tongue sticking out.

Print it, fold it, and we’re done. The hand-off to Kinko’s was made. Though I was able to design the program with my unprofessional artistic accreditation, I had to make sure the production was professional. Kinko’s called later that evening. I was one short car trip from checking off another item.

“Our folding machine is not working,” my sales professional stated.

This was not good.

“OK?” I said, hinting that a possible solution might be helpful.

“We can fold them by hand…at our hourly labor rate.” He offered.

The labor rate was much higher than the agreed-on folding-machine rate. At some point, if your luck hasn’t been all that great, you begin to expect scandal from anyone providing anything for your wedding. Clearly a bait and switch had occurred.

“These are our wedding programs, as you can probably tell by looking at them. We need them to be perfect. We want the machine,” I replied.

“Our manager will be in tomorrow. I’ll have him take a look and advise you.”

“Great.”

I hung up. I was thrilled that store management was going to take a personal interest in my programs. I ate myself back into a good mood.

They called back a couple hours later and said they had fixed it. The machine had apparently needed some adjustments for the paper thickness. So why even bother me? Did you kick it a couple times after the up-sell didn’t work? I knew our love was an undeniable force, but was all the testing really necessary?
- Drew Lloyd
From "Will You?" to "I Do.": A Groom's Tale of Survival