In the next few months we’re profiling all of our wedding guests. Check back to see what we write about you.
I’d call these two F. Scott and Zelda except that I’ve made that oh-so-erudite comparison so many times it’s cliché.
I met Matt when I pledged his fraternity at Wake Forest. Now, in an ideal world, the next 72 paragraphs would contain my favorite stories about him, but I’ll censor myself lest people who put a lot of trust in him discover this site.
A few months before their wedding I saw Tara and Matt. She said she was going to lock him up until their wedding, lest, true to form, he do something stupid and hurt himself. When I saw him walk down the aisle aided by a cane, I realized Tara hadn’t followed through on her threat and Matt was, well, true to form.
Tara and Matt throw one of Charleston’s biggest high-society bashes of the year: their Cinco de Mayo party. Mexican delicacies are consumed, friendships with Larry are forged, late-night motion pictures are screened, future husbands and wives are introduced, shot glasses are extraneous, spiritual and ascetic Hindu disciplines are demonstrated, and excuses to buy new Pampered Chef dishes are created. And it’s quite the status symbol to own one of their custom koozies (I have three).
My biggest concern with them being at our wedding is that at every wedding we’ve been to together, Matt has pawned off his responsibility to dance with Tara on me. So, if you are interested in filling in for me, please speak up in the comments section.
If you are talking to this duo and the conversation hits a lull, ask Matt about the time he went to bed early during a fraternity party. Or ask Tara about her favorite leprechaun (small l) movie.
(And if you’d like to see the wonders you can do to a picture by cropping, compare the photo in this entry with the original.)
