Groom Jitters

No man is an island.

Although we all get married for a myriad of reasons, the simple truth is most of us are looking for a companion to walk with us till the very end. So usually when an old buddy calls up to announce his upcoming nuptials, I'm all ready to offer hearty congratulations, give some good-natured ribbing and finally begrudgingly nod in agreement to be punctual for the dinner. If not for the actual bachelor party though brawling, boozing and bragging about clits isn't exactly in my line.

Of course there's sometimes the reluctant yes to be one of the tortured groomsmen - think of the endless gauntlets thrown down by the bridesmaids.

But today I was left speechless not knowing whether to congratulate the groom in question - or to commiserate in his evident misery. My college bud Smiley Sam really left me no choice in the matter.


Hard to think of a name when all I can recall are his nipples against my tongue.
Have to admit it made me feel like a cad for a moment when I blanked out on his name till he reminded me about a night four Decembers ago. All I could recall was that smile, those arms and the cigar. The name escaped me for a moment but the memory surely didn't. I'd first thought that Smiley had gone through his entire black book to spread the news of his matrimony but it seems as if he'd randomly stumbled across my name.

Smiley : I think I'm going to get married.
Paul : Great news! Who is he?
Smiley : It's a girl.
Paul : Is this a prank call? Am I being punk'd?
Smiley : Really. I've been seeing this girl lately.
Paul : You're going straight? Have you been to a conversion camp?
Smiley : I don't want to be alone. So I've been trying to go straight lately.

Going straight seems to be an understatement.

Just past his thirties ( and feeling lonesome out in the sticks ), Sam has been having recurring thoughts of putting down roots, settling down and starting a family. In the more traditional heterosexual manner. So out goes the endless merry-go-round of homosexual one-night-stands. And in comes the marriage of convenience with beard of choice.

Shades of the Wedding Banquet anyone?

Something not uncommon in our conservative country - since sham marriages abound judging by the number of married fellas searching for man-on-man action! Knuckling under relentless sociocultural and religious pressures, gay men here hunt for the perfect submissive bride, get summarily hitched and thereafter hide their instinctual lusts in the proverbial closet.

Only to surface in the weekends on their park outings.

Did I try to talk him out of it? A few years back I'd have immediately decried his conventional choices - coming up with a dozen fiery reasons why such an institution wouldn't work from the lack of feeling on his part to the sheer injustice on her part. After all, doesn't the poor beardbride deserve something more than a loveless marriage? Let's not even talk about pandering to our overly mainstream sociocultural norms.

But at my age - thinking of home and hearth, I can hardly find the heart to argue with Smiley Sam. After all, he's just a guy who doesn't want to walk alone till the end.