A Uniform’s A Uniform, Right?

When I was about twenty-five and an officer in the Navy, I was in the wedding of a friend in the Marine Corps. I was the only naval officer there, and I wore my formal tuxedo-like “Dinner Dress” uniform for the ceremony. It is a very dark blue (really, black) uniform. The Marines were all in their dress uniforms, as well.

At the reception, I decided to chat up the sister of the bride. I walked over to her and said hello.

Bride’s Sister: “Could you get me a white wine?”

Me: “Sure.”

I went to the open bar and got her drink. I came back and handed it to her, and she said thank you, turned around, promptly resumed talking to her friends, and completely ignored me.

I was a little miffed, as you can imagine, but I went away and found some of my other friends.

A couple of weeks after the wedding, I was talking to the bride, and she was surprised that her sister had done that. It turns out that, based on my uniform, she thought I was a waiter, and when I brought her a drink, she figured our interaction was complete.

My Marine Corps buddies have never let me live that down, I can assure you.