The road to a wedding reception is fraught with danger and excitement.
In last month’s issue, we left our wedding saga just as the average wedding gets fun. The wedding breakfast, the reception, the gifts, the refreshments.
Leading up to the wedding day, our pre-existing anniversary had been December 28. The past 24 years, we have disliked this date as an anniversary because it always gets lost amongst the holidays. We said that if we ever got married, we would choose a date in the summer that would be a better day to celebrate. Well, events being what they were, we exchanged December 28 for December 23. Not an improvement.
We had not had time to invite any of our family members to come to the marriage ceremony. So after we left the courthouse, we had only 90 minutes before Mr. Pap Smear needed to go to work. Feeling the need to somehow celebrate, on the drive back to Kaysville we stopped at Lorena’s Mexican Restaurant in Bountiful for a plate of enchiladas, which was our wedding breakfast, as it were. We got home, and my new husband went to work, leaving me alone on our wedding night.
Gene Geiber and Jesse Dowhaniuk, owners of Club Try-Angles and Off Trax Café, also were married amongst the throng at the courthouse. Gene decided to throw a wedding reception at Club Try-Angles for all the newlyweds, so he prodded Dennis McCracken to round up wedding cakes. Dennis reported that he purchased the last two sheet cakes he could find in town, which both happened to be birthday cakes. They scraped off the ‘Happy Birthday’ wishes and added a wedding greeting. I received a phone call informing me of the reception at Try-Angles and decided that, even though my new husband was absent, (he works a swing shift and doesn’t get home until 2 a.m.), I would attend.
When I arrived, there were about three other newlywed couples and a bunch of boys prancing about in their underwear. (I think it might have been underwear night at the bar.) Being without my husband, David Willeitner decided to assign a “temporary surrogate husband” for me. He snatched a passing cute twink boy (name omitted to protect the innocent) wearing nothing but his underwear to be my husband-of the-moment. That way, I at least would have someone to feed cake to when it came time for the ritual.
It was a lovely little party. Until the cake was cut, and it quickly turned into a food fight. I hid in the corner, while I quietly ate my cake. Then I went home.
The next day was Christmas Eve. We drove a short distance to Ogden Canyon where the grandkids and extended family were celebrating Christmas. As we approached the house, the three grandchildren came out onto the front porch and to throw rice at us. The 8-year-old grandson didn’t understand the concept of tossing wedding rice, as he flung it as if it was a weapon of last resort, defending the homestead. It hit like buckshot. Bless his heart!
On Jan. 11, 2014, QSaltLake, along with Le Croissant Catering, X96, and UtahGayWeddings.com, threw a big wedding reception at the Rail Events Center to raise money for the legal bills the marriage court case had accumulated. It was indeed the fabulous party I had always dreamed of having. The wedding cake was a structure to be awed. The entertainment was phenomenal.
I wore a silver princess gown, with lighted fiber optic breasticles, flaming beehive wig, and glowing angel earrings. I remember it darkly lit in the banquet hall. So as I approached the buffet table with my bright lights, I illuminated the banquet table for many revelers. In fact, a few people asked me to hang around and pass by the table occasionally so they could see the food to reload their plates. So, being the service-oriented queen that I am, I paraded up and down the buffet table lighting the way for all.
In the weeks following, Gov. Herbert refused to let the State of Utah recognize our weddings. So, each month at Drag Queen Bingo, I chose a temporary surrogate husband and took a photo to see if the governor would approve of this one. I had 13 temporary husbands before Mr. Pap Smear and I became official.
This story leaves us with several important questions:
These and other eternal questions will be answered in future chapters of The Perils of Petunia Pap Smear.
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