It was the first key that sparked something into the groom's mind. His bride made the first step onto the carpet and the countless memories he spent with his fiancee was lost except for one. The nerves of settling down could have been getting to him. Or maybe he was just scared that he was too young. In that split second he brushed off all feelings for her. That single F note was enough to remind him of the night he first met her. The way she dazzled him. The way she hollered at everyone. They way she chugged down every glass of alcohol. She was a lady of experience.
As the pianist began playing 'Here Comes the Bride' the groom knew that his partner was about to walk down the aisle. The first night he encountered her was in a club in Harlem. He had took so many shots that to anyone she would seem perfect. He saw the veil from his peripheral vision. Then looked back at when she had her dazzling purple dress that accentuated her womanly features. But now he wasn't thinking about her body but rather the black hairy mole that was very prominent. She was dancing... I mean hobbling because she danced like a blindfolded donkey.
"Look at my man, scoring the ladies," His friends yelped, laughing at him.
Then his best friend which is now his best man whispered in his ear and said 'butter face.' The sparkle in her eyes was gone.
The past isn't just the past. People can be different one night and change the next day. Not all change is a progression. Except his fiancee did not change. The groom did. The lady he saw then was exactly what he saw now. Except now she didn't excite him. She was out of control on the dance floor, and out of control on the passageway. She walked as if the aisle was her runway. Maybe he needed a women like that in his life. Somebody who could find fun out of everything. But all she is, is fun, not 'wife material'.
As the pianist began playing 'Here Comes the Bride' the groom knew that his partner was about to walk down the aisle. The first night he encountered her was in a club in Harlem. He had took so many shots that to anyone she would seem perfect. He saw the veil from his peripheral vision. Then looked back at when she had her dazzling purple dress that accentuated her womanly features. But now he wasn't thinking about her body but rather the black hairy mole that was very prominent. She was dancing... I mean hobbling because she danced like a blindfolded donkey.
"Look at my man, scoring the ladies," His friends yelped, laughing at him.
Then his best friend which is now his best man whispered in his ear and said 'butter face.' The sparkle in her eyes was gone.
The past isn't just the past. People can be different one night and change the next day. Not all change is a progression. Except his fiancee did not change. The groom did. The lady he saw then was exactly what he saw now. Except now she didn't excite him. She was out of control on the dance floor, and out of control on the passageway. She walked as if the aisle was her runway. Maybe he needed a women like that in his life. Somebody who could find fun out of everything. But all she is, is fun, not 'wife material'.
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