But what's funny is that for such a pomp-and-circumstance occasion, the people that run things never seem to give a shit. You're led to believe that if you make a misstep you'll completely ruin two peoples' (at least) lives, yet after running you through things, the coordinator always just shrugs "don't worry about it, you'll figure it out." I guess I don't like the wishy washiness - either fucking drill us like we're the Arlington Color Guard, or just tell us to show up and do whatever the fuck we want. For fuck's sake, there's more order and decisiveness in ordering a cheesesteak from Pat's than a wedding.
ps - a side note, to my earlier post: I remember every Pat's cheesesteak I've ever eaten (and am more likely to get choked up thinking about them.)
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