Frank and I went to a wedding this weekend in Bensalem, PA. Bensalem is a lovely town, home to the wedding barn Celebrations, several hundred outposts of an Italian restaurant chain called Carrabas, and three different bars called Michael's. The groom was an ex-coworker, so me, Frank, and a few other co-workers and their partners rented a minivan and trucked down. We all piled into a hotel room together, and it was one of those rare opportunities to do intimate things you normally don't do with colleagues--tooth brushing, sleeping, watching weird hotel tv--with the people you work with.
Frank and my work buddy Billy's boyfriend Nico were the non-work wild cards. They'd all met before, but it was the first time anyone from work had really had a chance to have an extended conversation with Frank. Which is kind of nerve-racking, cause what if they don't get along? Or worse, what if he says something horribly offensive and they get into a fistfight or something? Then it would be awkward every day at work for the rest of my life.
Frank can be a real crank sometimes, and smashing him together sleepover style with four other people generally would tend to bring out the worst in him, but he actually seemed to have a good old time. He and Nico really bonded, which is funny, and though it felt a little icky and over-vulnerable at times to let work people have unfettered access to a grumpy Frank, they seemed to think he was a good guy.
It's always nice to hear people tell you how much they like your boyfriend. Maybe I'm a job nerd, but I really like it when work friends start to become actual friends. Also, there's nothing that makes you feel legitimate as a couple quite like seeing both of your names on a little placecard. Sort of anti-intuitively, watching two other people pledge their eternal commitment to each other always makes me feel even happier with my non-eternally-committed state, yet happier that I’ve got Frank around.
I know I've talked about before how the rigamarole of super traditional weddings makes me incredibly grateful that I don't have to endure one, and this one was no exception. The brides family was Pentecostal, so believe me when I say that I got enough Jesus during the ceremony to last me pretty much for the rest of my life.
Anyway, it's odd but oddly nice to be smashed in with people you like and the people they like for a weekend. I'm really glad that I like the people that the people I like like, and vice versa. Or something. And now I know what my co-workers wear to bed, which might at some point be useful, I guess. Weddings are weird, man. Weird but fun.