Can’t Help Falling Out Of Love With That Song

, , , | Related | March 7, 2019

I am a musician, and I get jobs playing for weddings. At one particularly memorable wedding, the bride and groom were amazing people. I couldn’t help but like them, even though I probably only spent an hour in their company.

The bride wanted me to play at the ceremony, just an acoustic guitar and singing outside the church for the guests as they walked in. They invited me to the wedding and reception so I wouldn’t just be there for an hour and then go home.

About a week before the wedding, the bride asked if I’d also mind playing their first dance song.

I said yes, as I was going to be there, anyway. She wanted me to play a cover of “Thinking Out Loud” by Ed Sheeran. I agreed, told her that was a lovely choice, and that I looked forward to seeing her on the dance floor.

Fast forward to the day of the wedding. Everything was going according to plan, and about ten minutes before the first dance was due to happen I went to get my guitar.

The groom’s mother followed me, basically confronted me, and told me not to play that song. Instead, she wanted me to play “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis because it was her favourite song and she wanted her son to dance to that.

I cringed. As nice as Elvis is, that song completely out of sync with the couple, and certainly out of sync with the wedding. I very politely informed her that my agreement was with the bride and groom, and therefore I’d play the Ed Sheeran song.

She wasn’t happy, went on a rant — I don’t remember what she said, I stopped paying attention — and she ended it with, “I’m paying for this wedding, and I don’t care what that little [another name for a prostitute] wants; you will play what I tell you to or you won’t get paid!”

Something snapped inside me, but I knew that it was better to pretend to play along, since time was limited and I didn’t want her to be looming over me, trying to wrench the guitar out of my hands or something. I told her, sweetly as honey, that of course, I would play her song.

She wandered off, smug and smirking, and sat down primly to watch what she felt was the perfect coup of the wedding.

Then, I got up to play and did what the bride wanted, making sure to stare at the groom’s mother as I played the first chords with my professional face on. Then I sang, my heart in the emotion of the song. The married couple looked fantastic, the bride was glowing, and this really was everything she could have hoped for, for her wedding.

The groom’s mother was outraged. She came storming up to me at the end of the song, and before she could even open her mouth, I promptly told her where she could shove it.

I figured it was best to not ruin the happy couple’s day, so I waited until they got back from the honeymoon before I told the bride and groom what had happened. They immediately made sure that I got paid, with some extra for the trouble of the groom’s mother. The husband promised that he would have a… little talk… with his mother for trying to take control of the wedding.

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