I Do, I Do, I Do

Everyone has a role to play at a wedding; even the guests

"This is real silver, isn't it?"

Geneva looked at me wryly. "Yes, Jake. Do not fill your pockets with it."

I smiled. I always liked her sense of humor. "I wasn't going to fill them."

Our attention was captured by the bride and groom taking the dance floor. They were going through the routine with the bouquet. I had to admit: they were a very attractive couple. The maroon cumberbund was classy on the groom; the bride wore a vanilla flower behind her ear and maroon shoes below her gown: very hippie-chic. I watched them for a few minutes.

We had time to kill. We didn't have to stop having fun and get to work until after the first few dances. People-watching was just a useful hobby in our line of work, and weddings were one of our best gigs.

The father-daughter dance was actually quite beautiful, a real dance for a change instead of the Frankenstein wobble. It was a proper short waltz that had to have been rehearsed. A classy touch, the groom stepped up near the end and asked to cut in. Daddy bowed, and his little girl curtsied.

The father of the groom, at a table near the front, stood and tapped his fork on his glass. The room quieted.

"To quote Cicero—well, maybe it was P!nk—oh, who cares: let's get this party started!!"

He was right. Time to get started; time to go to work. As more modern dance music started to pound out of the DJ's sheather, I shook hands and congratulated the old man on his dance. I walked away with his gold watch in my pocket. I glanced across the room at Geneva and winked as something sparkly skipped surreptitiously into her small clutch purse.

The party was started, indeed!


(300 Words)