Another day, another wedding. The chandelier thought.Do humans ever get tired of the boring ritual that supposedly bonds two together?It was Saturday in December that the Italian-Irish couple decided to get married. They were a really funny looking couple. The bride, who was at least six foot, was taller than her fiancé by at least eight inches. She was really pretty, too. She looked like she could be in her mid-thirties. The man was short, bald and pushing ninety. The worts on his head looked like mounds of mud. “Oh my gosh,” the chandelier gasped. “She’s getting married again?” It took a while to recognize the woman she had seen on multiple occasions. She has seen the Italian a dozen times in the past.She had on the same dress: A thin, pink strapless with four ruffles at the bottom. Same hairdo: up in a bun.It was a small wedding, with only thirty people. None of them looked happy, not even the bride. It was only her family.Suspicious.The bride looked annoyed. Maybe he was too old, and unattractive. Or maybe she was getting tired of the play she was starring in over and over again.Poor woman. Maybe the man had a nice personality.Or maybe she was forced into doing it.He probably had money.
As the couple stood at the alter, everyone was dead silent. No one moved. The priestest was talking so slow. When she spoke,her back looked really interesting to her. As she began to speak, the bride began to cry.“Blah blah blah blah.” Was all I heard from then on.As the groom leaned in for the kiss, the bride stepped back. He fell forward flat on his face.The whole room began to laugh.He got up slowly and began to laugh at himself.The bride was still crying.As the piano began to play, they began to walk out of the room.As they stepped between the first two rows, a man grabbed the groom and then pushed him to the ground.The man shot him until he was dead.




I wish today would be as special as the first time. But I knew it wasn't going to be. This one, like the last few, were ugly. Short and old and ugly. Money was suppose to make men look better, but not really."Another big day!" my mother said excitedly. "You know what to do."Oh, shut up, I thought. I put on a big, beautiful but fake smile; something I’ve practiced so many times before. Everything has been done so many times before.The pink dress: faded from use.The hair: simple.The shoes: my favorite.......................................................................As I walk down the isle, I take in the scene. The room was huge, too big for the small wedding. My family took up only the four first front rows. His family didn't come; they never do.I look up, and I see the most beautiful thing in the room: the chandelier. Italian, just like me. Looking at it gave me some confidence, knowing everything was just how i left it. Half way down the isle, I think of all of the thirteen men I had married before. Justin, Jacob, Anthony, Josh, Michael, Sean, Robert, Rob, Antonio, Ashton, Malcolm, Stan and Thomas. Their rings lay in my parents' trophy case along with my brother's football, swimming and tennis trophies.
My brother, their favorite. He made money for them. Me; their star player in the game of marriage. I win when i marry rich and divorce with money. Except for with Justin. I just lost. Before I reach my husband to be, I put my game face on. I am ready to win.

Ugh, he is so ugly, old and short. As i stand in front of him, I recognize everything I dislike about him. He is SO OLD.

Then the tears came. I don’t know from where, but they were really coming.As the priestest began to talk, I began to zone out. Blah blah blah blah blah is all i heard."You may kiss the bride."When I came down from the clouds, I noticed the old man leaning in to kiss me. startled, I leaned backwards resulting in him falling.The crowd began to laugh. As I make my routine trip down the isle with my fourteenth husband, he fell walking through the second isle.Oh well, there goes another husband.