Happy new married year!

Few things are as dreadful as an old flame turning up to disrupt your wedding

In Summary

• A wedding prank falls short of expectations after bride fumes


Happy New Year, folks, and a really happy one for me in particular. Previously, I’ve started some years with heartaches and others with unrequited marriage proposals.

This time, I start the year a married man, sort of. Sgt Sophia and I have decided that we don’t require a piece of paper to affirm our union. Or the validation of a bunch of strangers eating free rice and counting our exes.

Which reminds me of a wedding I once attended a long time ago. The couple was the fun-loving go-getter types, or so everyone assumed. The lad, Mike, was a fellow cop, hence my reason for being there.

The ceremony took off without a hitch. Bride and groom exchanged vows.

“This is a lot of pressure, huh,” Mike said, his hands shaking. “I better not blow this or there’ll be hell to pay. Sorry, father. I, Mike, take you... what’s your name again?”

The church broke into uproarious laughter, after which Mike went through with his vows. Then it was the bride’s turn.

She opened with, “I keep thinking of the beginning of the movie UP. Is that a problem?”

Everyone in the church was in stitches. Apart from the church secretary, who kept glancing at her watch. I guess she thought the whole damn thing was taking too long and it might overrun its appointed time. But no one cared.

The bride continued: “I promise to listen when you’re talking to me about sports, beer or whatever you dudes talk about, and not just look at my phone, saying, ‘Hmm, yes, dear.’”

I mean, it was probably the most fun I’ve had at a wedding. The reception was held at a quaint hotel somewhere in Naivasha. The emcee was going through his paces when suddenly, a tall, beautiful woman walked in and headed straight for the high table.

She reached into her bag, removed a pair of boxer shorts, dumped them on the table and said, “I guess you won’t need these at my place anymore.”

The bride gasped, almost choking on her champagne. “What’s going on?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Mike said.

Before he could explain further, another bombshell walked over and dropped shorts and a white vest. “Don’t worry. They’re clean. I washed them for the last time.” And she left in tears.

By now, the whole audience was in shock and the bride was throwing a tantrum, demanding answers. As another woman approached the table, Mike shot to his feet.

“Please, Greta,” he pleaded. “Don’t do this to me. It’s my wedding day.”

“Yeah?” Greta said with a raised eyebrow as she produced yet another pair of shorts. “How come you forgot to mention that before ghosting me? I hope you rot in hell, Mike.” She threw the shorts in his face.

The bride picked up one of the clothing items. “Oh my God!” she cried. “These really are your shorts. I gifted you this pair last year for your birthday!” She pulled them over his head. “That’s it, Mike. The wedding is off!”

Now, wearing one pair of boxer shorts for a hat, the other over on his chest like a vest, Mike began laughing. For a moment, everyone, me included, thought he had totally lost it. “Come on, hun,” he told his bride. “It’s a prank.”

“Is it?” said the bride, not convinced for a second.

Even as the women returned to clear up the matter, the bride stormed off. It took almost an hour to convince the poor bride to return to the ceremony. But things were never the same. Six months later, they separated.

Come to think of it, Sophia and I might have escaped a bullet.

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