Nametags and nuptials, flower girls and favours…and let’s not forget the gorgeous groomsmen…
Any Romantic Comedy revolving around weddings and walking down the aisle, over the last century or so, has involved affairs between the single and fabulous girl, and the gleefully gorgeous, and available, groomsman. Need I say more?
It started off like any other out of town weekend, well almost...
Cut to checking into the most pristine piece of paradise – lo and behold, a luxurious cottage overlooking the lake and acres of beauty. Being hunter gatherers by nature, we gathered information from the local inhabitants in order to hunt down the ideal hangout. Ideal being the operative word; the bar we stumbled upon was less than ideal, but an eye opener for certain. Leery gentleman in their autumn years, swingers, singles over sixty, and the like, we were exposed to the incomprehensible country life. Alas, no probable prospects, but memories made to last a lifetime; as we joined the locals gyrating to hits of yesteryear.
They say a wedding is a playground for singletons and a platform for matchmaking; but on more than one occasion, the aforementioned options include an array of eccentric second cousins or someone’s prematurely balding brother, who is inconveniently prematurely tactile too. I don’t know what made this ceremony any different, but it started with a simple question – “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this…” The rest, you may say, is history, but let’s just say – it’s as delightful as the films suggest, to be swept off your feet by a groomsman. Let’s not forget the single guys at such ceremonies – it is equally enticing to be blown over by a breathtakingly beautiful bridesmaid…Definitely something to tick off your bucket list… Throw caution to the wind, coupled with a pint of passion and a dollop of Dutch courage…stir vigorously, and all that’s left to say is…I do*
Until next time, beautifully blend generous amounts of passion into anything you set your sights upon, be it the bridesmaid or the groomsman...the proof is in pudding, otherwise known as the perfect kiss*
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