I woke up as usual at 5 am, arrived at work by 6:30. Left work at 4:30. Ate. Showered. Went to a business function at a hotel (which was really cool - GREAT speaker, Safa Al-Hashem; that's for another story), and got to the wedding hall by 10:15 pm.
My slutty red dress isn't fitting me as well as I used to (yeah DG - blame it on the dress!), and I didn't want to make a big hoopla over make-up (its not like I'm EVER going to Hanan Dashti), hair and attire, so I threw on some fresh war paint and a black beaded jacket and went. Fekit: Comfort! I think for the next one, I'm going to do what all the matronly women do and just put on an abaya. Why knock yourself out?
I usually wear the slutty red dress and sit in the middle so that when the groom's party comes in and the female audience turns into a sea of black, I am the Blonde In The Red Dress and get all the attention. It usually works for me on several levels (including the former) but also that I don't get invited to others too quickly - which is better for me because I hate weddings. I especially hate the ones where you have to roll yourself in taffeda, 3 pounds of make-up, jewelry (so heavy that should you slip in a puddle, you would drown and tweek your hair into almost certain folicle death. Nooo, I don't even want to shave my legs unless it is for a reeeeeeeally good cause.
Anyhoo, this was my friend, Talal's, wedding and I really like him and his family. I hadn't seen them for about 12 years. He has perservered through some hard times and found love and was getting married. Bada BING. He very kindly extended an invitation and I went. I sat with the older female members of his family; many wearing niqab. One niqaba came and sat down behind me and started a conversation about her recent trip to Houston. I LOVED her. Never saw her face, but we promised to get together sometime (God forbid - not another wedding!). How will I know her? Eeek. Hadn't thought about that. The other ladies smiled at me warmly and I felt quite welcomed.
Talal's mother and sisters were very hospitable and couldn't have been nicer. Really sweet ladies. Because I was so late, the groom's party came in only after about half an hour. Then, the picture-taking time came and I wanted to leave before the Buffet Stampede and being forced to eat something. I went to congratulate the couple and Talal asked that I take a photo with he and his bride.
Ok, I don't know if it was me. Really, it might not have been, but it seemed a whole lot like it....
I don't think she was too happy that I was there. Her aunt told me that she was upset because she wanted to dance and the groom didn't, but it sure felt like it was more about not taking a photo with me. She turned from a kitty cat to lioness in about 4.5 seconds; directing the full fury on poor Talal. He giggled nervously. The photo-taking stopped. The mass grew quiet. I mumbled something about hoping they would have a lot of children and a happy life together and then (I had my reason to get TF outa there so) I bolted. I got across the parking lot as fast as my clickety heels could take me.
This is a new, odd, and somewhat disturbing sensation: This has never happened to me before at a wedding.
I immedately called The Man and started nervously relating. "WHAT?! You were congratulating them! That's rude!" Well yeah. She did know that I was going to be there. Dude is like 15 years younger than me and we only worked together (his dad knew me too). Yikes. I must look really bangable - cougaresque perhaps. Maybe I should take it all as a compliment.
Update - I spoke to the groom and he said that she was indeed mad at him for not dancing. My advice to him as a newly-married person, "If your wife asks you to dance, just dance." I would have been POed too if I wanted to dance at MY wedding and the groom refused. Your wedding photos last forever, after all. I don't think I would have thrown a hissy fit in front of 100 people, but I would have exacted a precise revenge later.