Right Question, Wrong Wording
December 28th, 2005 by rsm
It was a special day with friends. 2LT Rifle showed up with his fiancée, and I had the honor of chauffeuring them about town. It was a chance to make their wedding plans.
The church passed inspection. It’s a very new church and even has that fresh smell about it, no sense of a long-standing tradition, but it’s just fine. The kneelers have no worn depressions in them. The Common Books of Prayer are all in pristine shape. The artwork hangs in the traditional places, but without the somber tone of Christian iconography. For the feel, imagine a crucifix made by Peruvian schoolchildren at a festival.
We looked for a better place for the reception. The church had a small hall, but Mrs. Rifle-elect is more of an artsy-type. We found an art gallery that would be willing to host. It’s clear this will be THEIR wedding. Her parents are trying to apply a little pressure, but she is resisting. Nothing too fancy, nothing expensive.
I received my best-man instructions: No Strippers. Got it. Yes ma’am. Absolutely none? No Strippers… unless they are men. Roger that. No strippers.
Next we wandered into the courthouse to check on the license. We tried the Clerk office first. Nope. Marriage licenses are issued in our Probate Office. Marriage=Death. I get it.
Rifle wanted to know if he could get the license now and have it on hand, ready to go for the wedding next summer. “How long is a marriage license good for in this county?”
Mrs. Rifle-elect and I stifled laughter while the clerk paused, then responded, “Up until the divorce.”
It was a special day with friends. 2LT Rifle showed up with his fiancée, and I had the honor of chauffeuring them about town. It was a chance to make their wedding plans.
The church passed inspection. It’s a very new church and even has that fresh smell about it, no sense of a long-standing tradition, but it’s just fine. The kneelers have no worn depressions in them. The Common Books of Prayer are all in pristine shape. The artwork hangs in the traditional places, but without the somber tone of Christian iconography. For the feel, imagine a crucifix made by Peruvian schoolchildren at a festival.
We looked for a better place for the reception. The church had a small hall, but Mrs. Rifle-elect is more of an artsy-type. We found an art gallery that would be willing to host. It’s clear this will be THEIR wedding. Her parents are trying to apply a little pressure, but she is resisting. Nothing too fancy, nothing expensive.
I received my best-man instructions: No Strippers. Got it. Yes ma’am. Absolutely none? No Strippers… unless they are men. Roger that. No strippers.
Next we wandered into the courthouse to check on the license. We tried the Clerk office first. Nope. Marriage licenses are issued in our Probate Office. Marriage=Death. I get it.
Rifle wanted to know if he could get the license now and have it on hand, ready to go for the wedding next summer. “How long is a marriage license good for in this county?”
Mrs. Rifle-elect and I stifled laughter while the clerk paused, then responded, “Up until the divorce.”
how delightful!
glad the wife-elect is making sure no one takes over.
The thought of strippers never bothered me. It is a trust factor. He could look, but I would expect he would not touch.
I second the no strippers. Going to a strip club is one thing, but to have them in a private party before the wedding just seems disrespectful…
That clerk sounds a lot like me. Heheheh…
So… Was the clerk sharp, and that is why such a perfect answer? Or was the clerk one of those who missed their own humor? Just curious…
It wasn’t strippers at the bachelor party I had a problem with. It was half the wedding party leaving the reception to go to the strip club across the street.
I offered my ex-husband a lot more than a stripper as an engagement present…but he never was good at sharing…
So… you’ll be getting a stripper, then?