Okay, so I’ve been meaning to post about this for some time now, and since I had two weddings in the last month, I was fully reminded of why I need to blog about it:
Bouquet tosses. And why I run from them.
Oh, yes. I run. I’ve got it down to a science now that I’m 32 and still one of the “Single Ladies” (Hey, Beyonce, I bet you didn’t know your “Eff you, dude, I’ve moved on” song was going to become an anthem for humiliation). And even though the last few weddings I’d been to previous to this month didn’t participate in this act, I was still rearing to go when it happened at the last two weddings. It’s survival instinct at this point.
Here’s what happens. After the cake cutting, you see the DJ or someone grab the bride and she scurries off to grab her bouquet, and as this is happening, someone cues up a song (the aforementioned “Single Ladies” in this case) and all of a sudden the DJ or band leader gets this reaaaallly smarmy tone to his voice and is like “All right you single ladies, we need you out here on the dance floor.” But I’m out the door and out of the reception room by the time the word “dance floor” are uttered. I usually run to the bathroom, but in the first of the two weddings I went down to the bar and watched a half inning of the Yankee/Phillies game, which was awesome (sidebar: If they were tossing Yankee tickets or money or gift cards to Chick-Fil-A? Yeah, I might go out there. But a bunch of flowers and the notion that, Yay! I’m the Next to Get Married? No). By the time I got back, the garter toss was just ending, so I was safe.
Here’s the thing. I know there are women who enjoy this particular act (there are many YouTube videos to prove it), but the majority of them that I know? LOATHE it. Like, when people who know they are single point them out if they are slouching down in their seat (which is why I leave the premises). And the whole idea is that whoever catches the bouquet is the “next to get married,” so get out there, bitches, because you know you want to be saved from being single forever, right? Especially when – at least at weddings I’ve gone to – there seems to be a generation gap among the patrons, and while it’s a’ight being single in the minds of many younger guests, it’s considered a curse by the older ones. And thus it will give them an opportunity to nag you about your single state and the bouquet toss kind of validates them in the whole “being married is the only way” thing.
It’s also the extremely creepy and uncomfortable idea of some strange garter-catching dude sticking his hand up your skirt to put on the garter as “She’s Got Legs” (or some other song that’s awesome on it’s own but becomes a harbinger of doom at that moment) plays while a bunch of relatives and relative strangers cat call and whoop from the sidelines. And you have nowhere to hide, what with the spotlight on you and the photographer and videographer circling around and capturing the moment for all eternity.
My mom says I take it all too seriously and that it’s meant to be fun (and then I always remind her that she hasn’t been single in 37 years). And, I mean, you can tell that some women just eat this up and love sitting on that chair in the middle of the dance floor as her singledom is being singled out and some kind of mildly weird sex thing is being implied with a complete stranger’s hand on her exposed leg. But it ain’t me. And I’d venture a guess that there are a lot out there who wouldn’t writhe on the floor and gnash their teeth if this tradition died out, and they let “Single Ladies” be played as it was meant to: as a great dance song for everyone – female, male, single, co-habitating, married – to enjoy inebriatedly with glowing plastic accessories around your head and maracas in your hand.
