At dinner, there used to be magicians wielding the tables. Picture: Graham Turner for the Guide for the Guardian
In 2010 I went to the marriage of my ex-husbands boss. The formality took place in a exceedingly fancy Footballers Wives-type inn in Surrey. Wed booked an ordinary room but the bridegroom had paid for everyone to be upgraded to suites with their own garden-variety. He likewise receded 10,000 in currency the previous day exactly to pay for all the different entertainers not including the cost of the hotel, nutrient and glass of course.
We arrived to a fibre quadruplet, and the acrobats showed shortly after that and did a procedure while we imbibe champagne before the meal.The starter was asparagus whore, and as there had been so much champagne before the meal, there was a rush for the loo before the main course. The smell of asparagus wee-wee when you opened the door to the dames was extraordinary.
We then went into dinner “where theres” magicians working the tables. Just before pudding, the servers burst into song they were good and it was actually quite funny. The whole situation was absolutely ridiculous and had nothing at all to do with two people donating their love to one another. And by 4am the hotel had entirely run out of champagne, apparently. Quite the most horrible and hitherto stupefying uniting Ive ever been to.