Sex, Love, and Brooklyn: Wedding Sex

05/28/2013 9:30 AM |


What time is it? Wedding time! That’s right, starting in May, picking up steam in June, and going full force through the summer, there will be an insurmountable number of weddings to attend. Or so I’ve been told. I’ve only been to two weddings, but people are always complaining to me about the how many weddings they have to go to. They’re all like, “I will just barf if I have to face another chicken dance with the groom’s 3rd cousin.” I don’t know, but it sounds great to me. No one I know is getting married this spring. They’re too bohemian I guess, or too alone.


It’s unfortunate really, because I love the idea of weddings. Aren’t they just giant parties where everyone is dressed to the nines, there’s an open bar and you’re practically required to sleep with the foxy single groomsman? I mean, sign me up. It sounds better than Christmas!

The first wedding I went to, though, wasn’t like that exactly. Though it was beautiful, a lot of my high school friends were in attendance, which meant everyone reverted back to acting like their sixteen-year-old selves. I only hung out with twinks in high school, so I was fag-hagging it up at that wedding. Also, there was a vampire. I’m not joking about this. One of the vampires from the Twilight series was there. I danced the night away, then left my wallet on the sidewalk, and woke up with swine flu I had caught from spending too much time in the hotel’s sauna. I spent the next 3 days in a sweaty bundle of fever-soaked blankets. My best friend also caught swine flu but had to fly back to LA immediately. She threw up the whole six hour plane ride. But, the bride looked beautiful.

At the second ceremony I went to, I was much more successful in my pursuit of wedding sex. I’m pretty sure I was invited to this wedding as a last minute guest, and only because the bride used to come into the store I worked at and “Ooh” and “Ahh” at my engagement ring. (Yes, I was engaged once, but that’s another column.)
I was super-excited for this one because I didn’t know anyone and wasn’t given a plus one so I would be forced to make new friends. For the wedding present I re-gifted them a vibrator I won at a raffle from a feminist sex shop. I hadn’t opened it! It was a vibrator that you plugged into your iPod and it changed vibrations according to the beat of the music you listened to. I didn’t own an iPod, and I don’t like music, so it was all theirs. I swear, I hadn’t even taken the plastic off the box.

I will say the bride really had my back, because she sat me at a table with six of the most handsome men I’ve ever met. They were all twenty-something wannabe actors, and they were giving me attention with the intensity and charm that I imagine is innate to Tom Cruise. With their boyish good looks and eyes that looked at me through overgrown bangs, it was like being at a table with the entire cast of The Outsiders. I will confess, it’s always been a fantasy of mine to be sandwiched between Pony Boy and Soda Pop—otherwise known as a young Rob Lowe and C.Thomas Howell. I started to make bets with myself for which of these dudes would be famous first.

The Rob Lowe look-alike on my left asked me, “What’s your favorite movie?”

I started babbling right away “I love The Big Chill. My favorite type of movie is a reunion movie, and there is just something about The Big Chill that is superb. Great soundtrack too. Do you know that Kevin Costner originally played the guy who offed himself but they cut his scenes? And William Hurt! Oh my God. William Hurt is my dream man. That scene he does with Jeff Goldblum about how you can go longer without masturbating than you can without rationalizing something to yourself. Pure genius!”

I ended my monologue and was met with dead silence. All the boys were looking down at their plates. No one would catch my eye. I thought to myself, Did I say something wrong?