Romance Is Dead Part II
A balding William said ‘I will’ to a nervous commoner and the world cheered. As our future King and Queen made their way to the palace, everything seemed right with the world: Libyan rebels shared the cake with Gaddafi, Tunisian refugees hummed “God save the Queen” on the boats bringing them back home, and even the planet took a break from obliterating every last stinking human. Love had conquered all… All was good.
On witnessing what can only be described as The Wedding of the Century, I could not help but think back to 1981 when our beloved Princess Di got out of her fairy tale carriage and made her way down the aisle…. All was good or so we thought. Looking back, we now know it was a fluke. Charles was already banging Camilla. We had blatantly been lied to!
So was this charade another of Elisabeth's cunning plans to fool us all? Is William banging someone else? Is Kate trapped in a loveless marriage?
Wrapped in my Union Jack, overwhelmed by questions, I missed my friend kneeling down and proposing to his boyfriend. All of a sudden the pub erupted in applause snapping me back into reality. Their embrace, their love for one another… it was a truly magical moment... or it would have been if I hadn’t slept with the groom-to-be mere hours beforehand. Ashamed, I wanted to make myself scarce but my friend grabbed me by the waist and asked me to be his best man. Could things get any worse? They generally do… I braced myself for what was to come next…
That’s when my slime-ball of an ex* made his entrance, arm in arm with…wait for it… my mother! The wedding was turning into a family reunion from hell. Aghast, I sat back down, shaking my head in disbelief and on the verge of an anxiety attack. My mum hugged me, radiant in her bright pink dress, and whispered to my ear how much she liked my new boyfriend. Breathing heavily, I begged my sovereigns for help. As if they’d heard me, William kissed Kate. Everybody’s attention turned to the royal balcony; it was my time to flee…
But like Diana, this was one car crash I would not escape from. My mum was holding tight onto my hand telling me all about her Facebook relationship with my ex. Turns out, he had friended her and they had been having long meaningful chats for months.
The jets roaring over Buckingham stuck between my mother, her new best friend my ex, my last shag and his husband-to-be, I realized that my life had officially become an episode of EastEnders. I wondered what Peggy Mitchell would do. Following her example, I stood up and told my ex to get out of my pub, threw a drink in his face and dared him to fight back. My mum slapped me. Shaken, my friend’s fiancé stood up and blurted out his love for me; his husband-not-to-be-anymore-I-guess fainted. And I was booed out of the pub.
Oh, how I envied the royal family! At least, they can keep up appearances.
