Published Messenger Newspapers, Adelaide, Wednesday, April 17, 2002


HAPPILY EVER AFTER INSULTS


SHEILA's and Jean-Pierre's wedding last month in Melbourne was such a happy, teary occasion - blubbing women, runny noses, crooked eye lashes and emotional speeches with great lines like, ``Sob, you are the best parents I've ever had, waaaah!'' Sheila was on time but the ceremony, at the Studley Park boathouse, had to be delayed half an hour because the witness had gone off in the wrong direction in a cab. Melbourne cabbies used to be the best in the business but now are just as hopeless as the Sydney ones, not knowing the difference between Mt Arthur and Mt Martha. Or between Osama and Mohamud, the most common names of Melbourne cabbies, which must be giving ASIO conniptions given the ugly mood of the times. But should al-Qaida order them to attack a specific terrorist target in Melbourne, have no fear, they would never find it. Having seen Sheila many times at the rough end of a long night, I complimented her on how gorgeous she looked for a change. Thanks, she said, and paid credit to the professional makeup artist she had hired. Keep her close at hand, I said, always. The bride's father was understandably proud: ``Beautiful, isn't she?'' ``Beautiful,'' I said, ``she must be adopted.'' A couple of nights previously, I had gone to Jean-Pierre's 30th birthday party, which gave the same wedding guests an ideal chance to know one another before the Big Day. Such as the nurse I met who, after five sons, said she found working in the vasectomy clinic thoroughly enjoyable. She also revealed she was wearing a $75 bra, in which case, after so many sons, it was largely a waste of $75. And then there was Roland, who had travelled from Germany for the festivities and must surely have noticed that Gaydar kept eyeing him off. It was obvious to everyone else anyway. At the wedding reception, after a sufficient amount of brandy, Gaydar grabbed Roland and took him for a quick turn around the dance floor to test his inclinations. Unsettled to say the least, Roland quickly made a beeline for the prettiest girl in the room, who turned out to be a lesbian. Sigh. Meantime, the male toilet downstairs was so squeezy, I had to call out from the crowded doorway: ``What's the big attraction?'' To which someone at the back answered: ``Close the door, we've got a stripper in here!'' And after a moment's thought, someone else felt it necessary to add: ``A female.'' It was that kind of wedding. On the night between the Jean-Pierre's 30th and the wedding, I also went to my friend Ann's 40th birthday and wrote in her card a line about the last bonds to her youth snapping. Although, viewed from behind, it appeared the bonds had snapped some time ago. Two birthday parties and a wedding in three days was pushing endurance to the dizzy limit but, let's face it, so few opportunities exist these days to insult so many people.