Imlebideli

This evening, I went out to dinner with my daughter. We were at a loss about where to go, and we waited so long that finally, we ended up at an Old Country Buffet.

I don’t mind the buffet, though I always eat altogether too much. My daughter thinks that they’re “cheesy” and it’s never her first choice. She always enjoys herself there, though. She gets a kick out of people-watching, and making snide comments about all of the folks she sees. I usually refrain, just noticing who she points out and nodding or smiling while I shovel in the food. Tonight was different.

As we arrived, I noticed three young ladies sitting on a bench, outside the restaurant, but I paid no attention. We had spent so long trying to figure out where we were going to eat that by that time, I was famished. My only concern was getting into the restaurant, paying, and getting to the food.

When we got inside and got situated back at the table with our food, my daughter said “I wonder what’s up with those bridesmaids?”

“What bridesmaids?”

“The ones sitting outside on the bench. Surely someone isn’t tacky enough to be having their wedding recep–”

Just at that moment, she stopped short, because we both saw the bridesmaids in question, walking in the door, with an entire wedding party, including a bride in a full length, sequin highlighted gown, and tiara and veil. I was so shocked I stopped and stared with a forkful of rice halfway to my mouth.

Despite always telling my daughter that it’s rude, I couldn’t help but stare at the ragtag bunch; the bridesmaids were all in gowns that should’ve been a size larger, and none seemed to be wearing a brassiere, and they all needed one. The groomsmen were wearing lovely waistcoats, but the colors didn’t match the bridesmaids’ gowns. One bridesmaid was sporting a huge Harley-Davidson tattoo on her bicep, clearly visible, as the dresses were sleeveless. Another had a pierced eyebrow and a stud in her nose. One groomsman was wearing a pair of boots with his tuxedo that just didn’t seem right — my daughter identified them for me as Doc Martens.

But nothing was quite so out of place as the bride and groom, he in his Mickey Mouse waistcoat, fiddling with his brand new ring, and talking far too loudly to his friends. The bride, in her full gear, picked up the flower girl, a baby of maybe 10 months who turned out to be her own child, and schlepped up to the food area, and proceeded to fix herself a big plate full of ribs, spaghetti and baked beans. I am horrified to imagine what would’ve happened if she had spilled that on her gown!

It wasn’t until I was leaving, though, that I got a good glimpse at the newlywed couple close-up. They were just teenagers, no doubt marrying because they’d had a baby. They didn’t look particularly happy, not about their celebration, nor their circumstance. The two couples that I presumed were the parents all seemed to be wearing self-satisfied smirks, as if to say “Well, we got them married. Now we can get back to normal.”

After seeing that, the oddness of the situation no longer seemed funny to me, but sad. I hope those kids don’t turn out to be statistics, and I hope that one day they can look back and laugh at how far they’ve come from their $8.18 all-you-can eat wedding reception.