(Despite the fact that neither of us even wanted to do it, my grandmother grabbed both me and my youngest sister and outright forced us to go catch the bouquet at my aunt and uncle’s wedding. Instead of making any attempt to catch it, we both backed as far away as possible so that we had no chance of ever catching it. My grandmother was downright furious when she saw this.)

Grandmother: “What’s wrong with you? You could have been the next to be married!”

Me: “I’m single and have no interest in finding someone anytime soon, and she’s only nine. If we’re really the next to get engaged, there’s going to be a lot of disappointed single women in our family for the next several years!”

(I am attending a friend’s wedding that has an open bar. They have two kinds of whiskey available, Dewar’s and Woodford Reserve. Most of the bartenders are inexperienced and are confused by my order of a neat whiskey, but this one was the most clueless:)

Me: *handing my glass over* “Do you have ginger ale?”

Bartender: “Yep!” *gets the bottle and gets ready to pour the soda in the glass*

Me: “Actually I want a whiskey ginger, so could I get some Dewar’s mixed in with the ginger ale?”

Bartender: *grabs a bottle of Merlot and proceeds to fill my glass to the top*

(I am confused but figured that the wine was for someone else.)

Bartender: *grabs the bottle of ginger ale and starts pouring the soda into the wine*

Me: “No! I wanted whiskey with ginger ale!”

Bartender: *blank stare*

Me: “You know, whiskey mixed with soda?”

Bartender: *blank stare*

Me: *takes the bottle of whiskey from the shelf and hands it to the bartender* “Please put this in the glass with some ginger ale.”

Bartender: *grabs a new glass and fills it easily halfway with whiskey and then fills the rest of it up with ginger ale*

Me: “Perfect! Thanks!”

Bartender: *tries to put a large scoop of ice in the glass, which would make it overflow*

Me: “No ice! That’s perfect!” *grabs the glass from her hand and walks away before she tries to add anything else to it*

(My husband and I are in attendance to a friend’s wedding. In accordance to the Anglican ceremony, after the vows are exchanged, they sit in the first row while their pastor gives a short sermon.)

Pastor: *taking the stage and looking directly at the newlyweds* “[Couple], congratulations. You are now sitting next to the person statistically most likely to kill you.”

(I’m 17, and it’s right after my sister’s wedding so it’s time for her to toss the bouquet. I’m fairly tall with a long reach, so I manage to reach out and snag it right away, but the moment my hand touches it my father pops up and bellows:)

Dad: *in a panicked tone* “[My Name], NO! YOU PUT THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!”

Sister: “It’s too late. Let her go, dad!”

Dad: “NO! I’m too broke for this!”

(I’m attending a friend’s wedding reception and the time comes for the bouquet toss. She turns her back to us and lobs the thing in a nice, high arc. I extend my arm to full length and catch it flawlessly. Her 15-year-old sister is a foot taller and standing behind me, which means she reached down and caught it simultaneously. We freeze and turn to look at each other.)

Me: “I have no idea what to do in this case.”

Father-Of-The-Bride: “[Sister]! No!  No, no, no!”

Bride: *laughing* “You co-caught it! So [Sister] gets the centerpiece and you get the bouquet.”

Me: “Works for me!”

(Two years later, neither of us is married, but I think their father is just fine with that.)