Admission of guilt time. I lie a lot at weddings, I really do. It sort of goes with the territory I’m afraid. So for example, my brides will often ask me how the venue is looking while they’re having their hair and makeup done. My reply is always something along the lines of: ‘whew, it looks amaaaazing, wow, you really do have some vision.’ Of course, in reality, I know that it looks as though a bomb has hit the place – boxes everywhere, frantic staff ironing tablecloths, glasses and cutlery all lumped together, bunting lying everywhere. Oh, and the flowers haven’t arrived either which is adding to the overall chaos. So I just lie and say its all good, knowing full well that the cake isn’t standing the way it should. But why stress my brides out – as long as they think all is good with the world, they’re happy. At Lars and Tenneale’s wedding, Lars put his arm over my shoulder and said: cymbalta online sales ‘we’ve got to have a Tequila together before you leave.’ So I just lied. ‘Abs-bloody-lutely Lars! In fact, let’s have two! Woohoo!’ And off I walked. It was enough to keep Lars happy. And Lars was very, very happy, because he’d just married Tenneale who has a flash of a smile, and a personality that suggests that the term ‘dynamite comes in small packages’ is indeed now proven to be scientifically correct. And boy, can she dance. If I’d been Lars, those Tequila’s would have come in handy because she’s an intimidatingly good dancer. Anyway, the time came for me to leave and Lars said: ‘Tequila time, let’s do it!’ I was trapped. No way out. Then one of his mates stepped in and Lars lost concentration for a split second. ‘Thaaaaank you, and off I slipped into the night.’ We still have to have that Tequila Lars, no lies! Let’s do it!
