Our second wedding of the month. We were invited for the celebrations at 6pm. We were the only second tier guests, the only ones who had not been there to witness the marriage, the speeches, and enjoy the meal. I haven’t seen G for two years and he invited me via whatsapp casually about a month ago.
We spent most of the time with a beautiful 25 year old who was mature beyond her years: serious, focused, calm and softly spoken. She was doing a History Phd at Oxford. She had dark brown eyes, peroxide blonde hair, a nose ring. Her figure was good, a tattoo on each inner upper arm. She showed off her hairy armpits with each sweep of her hair. Her legs were hairy too.
Briefly spoke to a guy in a top hat with a feather in it, crooked teeth and side burns. Within five minutes he told us he was a depressive on temazepan and had tried to take his own life.
And then G, the groom. He boasted how he’s buying a 7 bedroom house with M, 3 acres, a lake that would make the pond in the celebratory gardens look like a puddle. Serious flexing.