I was exchanging email with a friend who was telling me that he wanted to go out for a motorcycle ride this weekend, but he had to drive out-of-state to attend his niece’s wedding. I commiserated with that unfortunate situation. This exchange reminded me of one of the unintended benefits of being from a large family. That is, it’s nice not to be missed.
Let me explain. I have mentioned before that I can’t dance worth a lick, and don’t like to be subjected to dancing if I do not have to. Further, I don’t like to be around straight people whose tongues are loosened with alcohol. Sometimes they say some things that can be downright stupid, ugly, or inappropriate in my presence. You know: typical stuff that falls out of guy’s mouths when they are posturing for the Alpha Male position at social gatherings (like wedding receptions or club banquets.)
Then I remembered what I have been doing for the last decade (or longer) since at least 1995 when my partner refused to attend any more weddings with me. He absolutely detests social gatherings, and won’t go with me (especially to wedding receptions with my family. Admittedly, those events can get rather large and loud). Going alone isn’t any fun for me. I feel like a third wheel or … worse.
Anyway, what I explained to my friend is that these days, if invited to a wedding, I decline if it is out-of-town. Traveling to an out-of-town wedding is not my idea of “fun.” It is more like an unnecessary expense.
If I am invited to a wedding that will be held nearby, then I attend the church service, then split. Yep, I’m a real party-pooper. I may show up to the church on my Harley in a suit and polished motorcycle boots, go in, say hello to the family, say my Dominos and Biscuits and all that, then once the bride and groom have left, I hand my gift to someone else who is going to the reception, mount up my iron horse, throttle up and skedaddle.
It really IS a benefit to be in such a huge family, because no one really misses me. Sure, some say they do, but they’re just being nice. Most get so drunk that they can’t remember the next day who else was there. So it does not matter if I do not go. No big shakes.
I guess I am continuing to disprove some typical stereotypes about gay men. Not all of us: 1) like to dress up; 2) can dance or enjoy it; 3) like weddings or wedding receptions. I guess I could add another: I couldn’t tell you what the bride was wearing, and I don’t give a flying frig, anyway. I guess this commentary flows from being about the only gay man I know who didn’t give a rat’s patootee about the wedding that happened in London yesterday.
Life is short: be thankful (sometimes) not to be missed.