I have no money. I complain about this a lot. I get things cheap a lot of the time, and I go out of my way to scam the cheapest deals I can for things. It’s perfectly natural, as well as a little bit exciting – the thrill of the hunt and all that. But there are some things where I see them, I see they’re a genuinely bargainous offer and I think “oh dear fucking god how or why would anyone in their right mind go for something as utterly awful as this?”
Premier Inn is offering a deal for couples to get married – a package deal involving clothing (and nightwear!), food, accommodation, food, drink and lots of other things. For £199. Wow, what a great deal, seeing as weddings normally cost thousands of pounds. But how much is self-respect?
I’m not saying you should go out of your way to pay as much money as you possibly can on what is essentially one big party where everyone tells the girl how great they are and the man just gets pissed and feels confused and overwhelmed for a day or two. What I am saying is that if you are willing to pay £199 on a package wedding deal where you are hosted at a Premier Inn in Barnsley, then you might want to re-think your priorities. It’s one thing having a shotgun wedding in Vegas or being as frugal as possible with arrangements. It’s an altogether different thing to opt for the cheapest and easiest way of doing things.
There are creative ways around cost, if that’s the real issue. Scale things back, host it at a friend or family’s house, do things on the cheap or cut them out altogether or whatever else. Surprisingly it should be a special day, whether you want it indoors, outdoors, religious, better (“non religious”), upside down, domestic, foreign or even if you bother having a ceremony at all. There are options, and the option you choose to get married should not be a fucking package deal from fucking Premier Inn.
Unless Lenny Henry conducts the service, of course.
Today I will attend a friend’s wedding for the first time in my life. I’m surprised it’s taken this long… actually, thinking about that statement I’ve realised that’s a complete lie. I’m actually surprised it’s only taken 26 years, as the people I consider ‘friends’ aren’t exactly of the settle down and get married type. You know who I mean, you.
Regardless, this now means I have to officially grow up and become what society calls an ‘adult’. We all know it kicks in, as soon as you attend one of these things you have to immediately start discussing drapes that are pleasing on the eye and the best place to get a mortgage from (I’ve heard Halifax do good ones).
Then, of course, I’ll have to join a country club so I can suck up to the bosses by golfing with them (I don’t say ‘playing golf’ any more – that’s such a cheap way of looking at things). I’ll also have to start consuming only organic products and having fresh fruit and vegetables delivered to the estate on a daily basis.
Then I’ll have to wrangle me some hired help to deal with all the functions I’ll be hosting, usually fundraisers but some promotional matters concerning fireplaces and sinks. I won’t pay them very much and will likely treat them like dirt – but they’re below me anyway. Subhuman. So it really doesn’t matter that much whether they’re happy or not.
Then, of course, it will be up to me to re-instigate the Third Reich and bring about my absolute dominance of the world through any means necessary. After that it’ll be all about conquering the known universe and subjugating any alien races we might come across on the way. As that’s what being an adult is all about.
Still, I have to go to this wedding first.
Visit to the countryside, day one: arrived in Norwich. Known to locals as “NAARCH”. Ordered taxi on promise it would be far too much money. Promise was later lived up to. Taxi man hid behind sign in car park then shouted subjects from fair distance. Seemed uncouth. Attempted discourse concerning recent footballing events. Resulted in subject ‘Ian’ mumbling something about Heskey. Unknown whether statement was positive or negative.
Arrived at farmhouse within around one half of an hour. Nearly killed deer on drive up. Would have hoped driver would knock off five pounds if deer was hit. Shame was only near miss. Pulled into farmhouse driveway. Subject ‘Anna’ made statement “there’s a goose!”. Need further testing to ascertain she is not actually a four-year-old.
Left farmhouse shortly after. Long walk up driveway saw both subjects tailed. Unknown third party revealed itself to be springer spaniel. Dog proved to be enthusiastic to a frightening degree. Followed subjects far away from its own territory. Subject ‘Anna’ commanded beast back to homestead with point of finger. Spaniel complied. Noted that spaniel also looked like saddest dog alive at this point.
Pub in small village. Burger aspirated. Local beef. Local ale. Title: ‘Afternoon Delight’. Invoked Arrested Development and Anchor Man. Cricket landed on subject ‘Ian’. He absolutely did not squeal and flail like a little girl. Numerous (two (2)) classic cars pulled into driveway. Subject ‘Ian’ claimed one to be Model T Ford. Further testing necessary to ascertain if he is actually full of shit or not.
Return to farmhouse uneventful bar subject ‘Anna’ writing on road. Subject used water bottle. Showed capability to use rudimentary tools. More study required. N.B. Message unrecorded.
Subject ‘Ian’ spent time throwing sticks for springer spaniel into river. Seen laughing. Further study necessary to see if subject needs dog. Early signals point to yes.
Subjects retired to room. Managed to find fan in cupboard. Will be rewarded for industriousness.