Written on 29 March 2019
Katy
“First of all, to anyone who hasn't made a complete twat of themselves, thank you for coming. I'm sure you'll get a gigantic kick out of telling anyone who will listen what an absolute car wreck it was. Go, with my blessing.”
“Secondly, my husband. Thank you for trying today. I do mean that, you're an incredibly nice guy, and one day you will make some dull, inoffensive, sweet girl very happy. But i really should have listened to my gut on this. My mother talked me out of it. Thanks mum. Also, that speech? I was a fucking footnote in that speech. I am not going to be in a marriage where I'm anyone’s footnote.”
To my father. Fuck you. Honestly, you've done nothing but bitch and moan about this wedding, about the costs, about the arrangements. You are obsessed. Thanks for starting off the trend of making me a footnote with your speech pointing out the flaws of a man who emptied his bank account to make today happen. You are pitiful, and it's a mystery to me why mum has never left you. Her talking me into getting married makes an awful lot of sense. She wanted someone else to be just as unhappy as she is.”
“To Mitch. You are repulsive. Utterly repulsive. There is literally no one in this world who I'd want to run away with less. Emily, I know we haven't spoken much, but you can do a lot better than this fucking wannabee toff asshole.”
Kelly. Mildred. Tim's father. If that's what you're all into, fill your boots. Just maybe not at the wedding of your son, best friend or great niece. It might be considered inconsiderate.”
“Tom. You are gross. So is your currently incarcerated pal Pete. Don't solicit a blowjob from a fucking cleaner ever. Poor woman has to clean up your shit for minimum wage, you scumbag. I am kind of digging the jeans and jacket combo, though.”
“Anyway, I'm going to leave you all to it. Kelly, you can get back to your intergenerational threesome. Tim, you can crack on with beating the shit out of Mitch. Lord knows he deserves it. Tom, the floor is yours. Hammer out that speech you've spent seven months preparing.”
I shove the mic into his chest and walk away. I better be able to find someone outside with cigarettes. Bit of a lack of pockets with this dress.