Part 4: Pre-Wedding Pictures

As an introvert, there’s nothing worse than inadvertently drawing attention to oneself, especially for an embarrassing reason like trying to untie your sword from your belt, failing, and then probably accidentally unbuckling your belt by mistake so you drop trou which ruins your sister’s wedding and, of course, is caught on video and still pictures so your humiliation is captured for all eternity.

So, after having exhausted all other options, I decided to just hold my sword at my side as if it were attached to my belt and just carry it throughout the entire ceremony, which, mercifully, was only supposed to be about 30 minutes long.

I suited up and used the back staircase to surreptitiously exit my hotel. As I climbed into my car I noted, with some dismay, that it was already above 80 degrees outside and climbing. I drove to the park and arrived precisely at 1pm, when pictures were supposed to start. No one was there. I texted my sister to ensure there hadn’t been a last-minute change of venue, hopefully to somewhere indoors and air-conditioned. No such luck. Everyone was running late. Surprise!

After a few minutes I realized that (aside from the several families out for a family BBQ with no idea what they were about to witness) there were actually a few people from the wedding party there, setting up a white lacy backdrop. I momentarily considered getting out of my air-conditioned car to help them, but they were all wearing shorts and t-shirts and I was wearing three layers of leather, polyester, and shame.

Eventually my guilt overcame my desire for comfort and I got out, drawing stares from everyone, and hiked across the field to the wedding location, building up a thick layer of sweat that coated my entire body and would remain there for the next 7 or 8 hours.

They’d just finished setting things up and then headed back to their hotel to get into costume, leaving me to stand alone in the park looking a bit like an uncomfortably moist cosplayer. It was here that I realized the first major change from the previous day’s rehearsal: evidently, park services had dumped a bunch of mulch on the grass, leaving a giant brown stain in the midst of our beautifully green field.

At that precise moment a truck drove by. The passenger leaned out the window and yelled “YEAH NINJA WARRIOR!”

I raised my fists and shouted “YEAH!” in response.

“WHITE POWER!” the passing racist continued.

I quickly put my arms down and glanced around at the ethnically diverse picnicing families. Wonderful. Not only do I apparently look like a member of the Ku Klux Klan but it looks like I just saluted someone for shouting “WHITE POWER!”

Finally, about 30 minutes late, people started showing up, and we all began setting up 150 folding chairs, which reminded me once again that if you have to do manual labor in the direct sunlight in the desert you really shouldn’t be wearing leather dominatrix boots.

That finished, red-faced, puffing, and dripping with sweat, we all hiked about 300 yards across the park to a second location where we would be taking the wedding pictures. Mercifully, they began with the bride and groom, who looked well-rested and well-air-conditioned. One of the groomsmen, who, out of respect for his identity I will only refer to as “Matthew”, plucked me by the elbow. We stepped away.

“I have a flask of Wild Turkey, if you’re interested,” the unnamed groomsman said.

I was already about to pass out from heat exhaustion, so I figured adding a little alcohol to the mix couldn’t hurt. What was the worst that could happen, we’d be arrested for public intoxication and violating open container laws?

Part Five