First of all, I didn’t know it was a black tie wedding. I guess those things happen when you don’t read the invitation carefully. Or at all. Woops.
Secondly, I arrived 2 hours late. (Thanks a lot, alarm clock that never went off at the Best Western Garden Inn in Santa Rosa, CA.)
Anyway, when I arrived I noticed that all the men were wearing tuxes. Damn it. Hope nobody minds that I’m wearing a measly old suit!
And I really didn’t think anyone would care. But ever since Wedding Crashers came out, I suppose families are on the look-out for inconsistent guests who don’t seem to fit in.
So, I think it was the late arrival plus the suit/nametag combination that did it.
After the service, I strolled around the reception area. I felt a tug on my left shoulder. With my mouth stuffed full of mini pizzas, I turned to an intimidating man in his mid-fifties wearing a beautiful black tux and a big scowl on his face.
“Excuse me, sir, but do you know this is a private party?”
I swallowed quickly. “Um, yeah…?”
“So, were you actually invited to this wedding?” he probed.
Who is this guy? What the heck is he talking about?!
“Well, I’ve known the groom for like, 17 years,” I defended.
He glanced down at my nametag as a smile slowly replaced his angry stare.
“Oh wait, yeah! I know you. You’re Scott Ginsberg, The Nametag Guy! Gosh I’m so sorry about that. Please forgive me…
…I’m the father of the bride.”
LET ME ASK YA THIS…
Have you ever seen a real Wedding Crasher?
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Author/Speaker/That Guy with the Nametag