I shit you not. At the last four weddings I’ve been to, I have caught the dang bouquet. Whoever came up with that tradition and said if you catch the bouquet you’re next should be shot is just plain wrong.
I’m still single.
The last wedding I was at, I snuck out before the first few notes of “All the Single Ladies” starting pumping through the DJs sound system. Inevitably, I would have been one of oh, let’s say, three single people at this blessed event. And I refused to catch yet another bouquet. That shit is drawn to me like white on rice and I firmly believe it has jeopardized my dating status.
I don’t even like flowers. Let alone having to sit on a chair in the middle of the dance floor, while everyone stood around watching some guy who I’m not even moderately attracted to, garter-rape my thigh.
At my female cousins wedding there was a decent group of us that got up. My sister refused was too drunk to get up during the tossing. I do, however, have an awesome pic of the actual toss, where I’m kind of jumping up a little and my other cuz is going in the other direction. It’s like a weight loss before/after pic, the skinny me jumping out of her fat girl clothes. I guess I shouldn’t feel good at someone else’s expense, but hey, I’m shallow like that. The catch was made and the very undesirable guy who caught the garter had his hands up my dress lickety split. Too bad the dude I was dating at the time didn’t even make an effort to catch it. Asshat.
Flashforward to the cuz who didn’t catch the bouquet’s wedding. Yep, you heard right. She didn’t catch the bouquet and she was the next to get married. I again, trudged my little hiney up on the dance floor and jumped higher than I ever have in my life watched that bouquet fall right into my outstretched waiting hands. I was still dating the guy from the first cousins wedding. And guess what? He didn’t catch the bouquet this time either. Another dude. Another garter raping.
Male cousins wedding. They walked in to the Rocky theme song. Need.I.Say.More? This one was totally trashy. I don’t know why I even bothered getting up on the dance floor when it came time. But I did. Thank you very much Budweiser. After surveying the lot of single men, I asked begged pleaded offered to pay mine and my sisters gay date to catch the garter. He did way better than said boyfriend from the other weddings. He went the distance. Sliding on the floor, under a table to catch this garter for me. To no avail, but he definitely put in a valiant effort. Kudos, brother, kudos. This garter raping I ended quickly. His hands had a mind of their own and they were fast little suckers.
So, I’m done catching bouquets. They do nothing for me but make me sneeze. Someone should come up with a new meaning warning behind this tradition.
Don’t catch the bouquet. All it will get you is some dude, sliding his hands, up your skirt, while a bunch of people are standing around watching and cheering him on. I think I’ve seen this before. It was a Jodi Foster movie called the Accused. Ever hear of it?
Not to mention you could also run into some really creepy situations with the bouquet tossing.
Picture it.
A family friends wedding. Her great aunt catches the bouquet. Her cousin catches the garter. Boy, 20-something, sliding a garter up his 80-something year old great aunts skirt.
Ewww.
This tradition is EVIL.
