The Negotiation (A Groom With A View)
The very next morning, Evin and I sat in the living room and talked wedding plans.
“Tell me exactly what you’re thinking,” she asked starting us off.
“Okay, you ready? Here we go. Get ready to be blown away — City Hall, a humongous party, and anywhere in the world you want for our honeymoon!”
I know just what you’re thinking — great idea, right? I thought of it all by myself. I didn’t ask anyone. I didn’t check with a friend. Made no phone calls. Just came to me. Exhaustively researched, meticulously thought out, and here we are. I have a feeling she’s going to love this!
“City Hall! 141 Worth Street New York, NY 10007.” That’s the research I mentioned.
“And a party to end all parties. Just like the ones rap stars have just before they go off to jail. We’ll buy out our favorite restaurant. What’s the name of the place we love? It’s over there on, what, 5th or 6th? You bought a hat at the store across the street from it the night we had dinner with your old roommate. By the way: you look great in that hat.”
“Two words: Ant arctica. You said you always wanted to go there. And go there we shall. And when we get there, no matter how many days it takes, no matter how many time changes there are, we’ll do Antarctica things. It’s gonna be great. I’m excited already. Are you excited?”
“No. But why do you want only that?”
And I told her. I said it seemed like so much to ask of people. To make plans, book an airline ticket, find a hotel, get a cab from the airport, figure out what to do for the all but the 4 or 5 hours they’d be in a room looking at us. And taking pictures. So many pictures being taken. She knew how much I detested having my picture taken.
“Look, I love that everyone will be looking at you. They should be looking at you. But they’re gonna have to look at me, too. No one should have to suffer through that.
“Is that the best excuse you have?” she asked.
“Okay, what kind of wedding do you want?” I asked her.
And she told me. A fun, cool, smart, beautiful wedding hopefully in Brooklyn. A big party where our family and friends will come to celebrate. Great food, lots of dancing, and singing, and laughing, lots and lots of laughing. A day you and me and everyone there will always remember.
“But they have nicest benches down at City Hall.”
Of course Evin should have this. She promised me she wouldn’t be Bridezilla which I think (apologies to every single woman in the world) every bride claims just moments before buying a ticket and hopping onto the express train to Bridezilla. But I knew Evin and had no worries she would turn out to be the stuff bad reality shows are made of. But we were both pretty good at conflict resolution. So we negotiated.
Me: “60 people.”
Her: “90 people”
Me: “At a restaurant.”
Her: “At a wedding venue or an event space.”
Me: “No tuxedo”
Her: “Dark suit”
Me: “No pictures”
Her: “A photographer. No video”
We shook hands.
“Been a pleasure doing business with you.”