This summer was supposed to be filled with joy and celebration. My cousin, Chloe, was finally marrying her longtime boyfriend, Mark. Now, Chloe has always been… particular. She envisioned her wedding as a vision of “neutral elegance,” which, in practice, meant everything was beige, blush, or some other variation of off-white. The invitations were cream-colored cardstock with calligraphy, the flowers were pale roses and hydrangeas, and even the bridesmaids’ dresses were a shade of taupe that somehow managed to wash out everyone’s complexion. I knew going in that this wedding was going to be… an experience, but I was not prepared for the level of sheer, unadulterated misery that awaited us. The location was a beautiful vineyard, but unfortunately, the ceremony site was in a completely unshaded area. The temperature that day soared to a sweltering 102°F. As guests began to arrive, beads of sweat already started forming on foreheads. And that’s when the rules started. Chloe, dressed in her [ “off-white monstrosity” ], greeted everyone with a chilling smile, but her eyes betrayed her true self. “No plastic! No Hydro Flasks!” she barked at anyone who dared to bring their own water. “This isn’t a campsite!”
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We were offered tiny cucumber spritzers upon arrival, which amounted to about three sips max. Guests were visibly melting, fanning themselves with their programs, and teetering on the verge of fainting. But Chloe remained unfazed. “Beige shows stains, people!” she reminded us with a smirk. It was clear that her aesthetic vision was far more important than our comfort. When the groom’s mother, Linda, discreetly tried to open her water bottle, Chloe swooped in like a hawk. “Do you want to spoil my vows?!” she hissed, snatching the bottle away. The ceremony dragged on and on, under the blazing sun, as Chloe’s voice just droned on. Chloe clapped sharply at anyone who shifted their weight or dared to look uncomfortable. “Posture strong!” she commanded. “I paid for a photographer!”
The entire ceremony felt like some sort of twisted performance, and we were all unwilling participants. Then came the time for photos. Chloe, of course, had a very specific vision in mind. She posed us like mannequins, instructing us to smile perfectly and maintain a consistent beige color palette. That’s when Linda, the groom’s mother, made a phone call, a single phone call that would change the whole trajectory of the day. [ “Hi José? We’re ready,” ] she said into the receiver.
Suddenly, about five minutes later, the sound of approaching engines roared through the vineyard. A fleet of trucks, each with mounted hoses, pulled up to the ceremony site. Before anyone could react, powerful streams of water began spraying everywhere, drenching the guests, the photographer, and most importantly, Chloe, right as the most important photos were being captured! The beige-themed elegance dissolved into a chaotic scene of spraying water and screaming guests. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Chloe, hair plastered to her face and her expensive dress completely soaked, stormed toward Linda, arms flailing. “WHAT. IS. HAPPENING?! YOU…” she shrieked, completely losing her composure.
That’s when Linda smiled. A genuinely, beautifully satisfied smile. “You wanted no plastic, no water?” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, now you have plenty of it! And as for the beige stains? I’m sure the photographer is getting some lovely shots now.” Linda had arranged for the local vineyard to use their water trucks to “cool everyone off.” It was the most epic act of **passive-aggressive revenge** I had ever witnessed. In that moment, I realized that Linda wasn’t just a sweet, unassuming mother of the groom. She was a strategic genius.
The wedding basically dissolved into a free-for-all water fight. Some guests were furious, but most were laughing and splashing each other. The tension that had been building all day finally broke, and everyone seemed to relax and actually enjoy themselves. [ “Chloe’s perfect beige wedding” ] had been hilariously, gloriously ruined. And honestly? It was the best thing that could have happened.
