My friend Gary is such a successful wedding photographer that he is doing turn-away business. I know this because my middle sister, who is getting married soon, asked him to photograph her upcoming wedding and he turned away her business.
He called me afterwards, apologetic, to explain that he is just too busy to take on any new clients. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Your sister sounds really nice.” He paused. “And I love when elderly people get married,” he said. “It’s so cute.”
I was taken aback. “My sister and her fiancée are just 60,” I said to Gary, who is 35.
“Yeah, I figured if she was your sister she had to be pretty old,” said Gary matter-of-factly. Stung, I was silent and I think he realized what he said. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said hastily. “I love old people.”
I saw my sister and her fiancé later that day and felt compelled to repeat what Gary had said. I expected fireworks but got resignation. They both looked at each other and sighed.
“We hear that attitude over and over,” said Judson.
“You’d swear we’re the only middle aged couple in South Florida who ever got married,” said my sister.
“Remember the florist?” asked Judson. The florist could not understand a wedding where the bride was not carrying a bouquet that cascaded to the floor. “She kept showing us bouquets the size of a bushel basket,” he said.
Apparently they ran into the same issue everywhere. The bakery tried to sell them a multi-tier wedding cake with a ceramic bride and groom on top, and offered to imprint their names and wedding date on cocktail napkins.
“I said we’ve both been married before,” said Judson, “and this is not some huge white wedding: Just a small dinner with immediate family and close friends.”
My sister nodded. “Then the catering manager at the hotel kept showing us huge banquet rooms. When I said that six tables of six would suffice, she was stunned.”
“She asked where the dance floor would go,” said Judson as my sister rolled her eyes. “And the band. When I said there would be no dancing and no band she said, ‘Well, why even bother?’”
My sister giggled again. “But then she gave me the card for her friend who has a bridal salon on Las Olas. When I told her there would be no gown, she gasped.”
“That’s not why she gasped,” Judson said. “She gasped when you told her you were wearing black slacks.” They both laughed out loud and high-fived each other.
“That was a fun afternoon,” said my sister and Judson nodded enthusiastically.
“Tell Guy about the jeweler,” my sister prompted, and they both began laughing uproariously.
“Well,” said Judson, “we kept telling him what we wanted and he kept showing us what he thought we wanted.”
“He was getting really annoyed,” said Judson. “He kept saying, ‘This is our most popular style,’ and ‘All the brides love this one,’ and then he brought out one final ring and when she said she didn’t like it he asked her why not?”
“I told him it looked like all my other wedding rings,” said my sister, “ and that this time around I wanted something different.”
“And then the jeweler asked how many times we’d been married,” he said while my sister smirked, “And your sister said, ‘Individually or collectively?’”
Now they were laughing so hard they was gasping for air; eventually they composed themselves. “This is way more fun than my first wedding,” said my sister, and Judson nodded.
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