ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

According to Mark Rogers, somebody always has to pay because nothing in this world comes free.

Today, the person who pays is him.

Despite saving a bit of money by having their wedding on a Thursday, Julie (nee Rogers) and Sam Heshan still wanted the nuptials of their dreams.

Which is a bit more expensive than applying for a marriage license at the French Quarter Local Courts.

“Julie said she wanted this that and the other thing for her wedding,” he said.

“Who am I to say no? I’m so old and fucked now that avoiding intrafamily conflict with money is a seemingly wise investment. Want a horse and buggy? Fuck it, put it on my Amex. I don’t care anymore,”

“All I asked for was to bring some friends and time to speak. Getting that was like getting AB- from a fucking blood bank in Basra.”

So shortly after the Best Man concluded his widely inappropriate speech, Old Man Rogers creaked, groaned and cracked his way upright and over to the lectern.

He prefaced his speech by telling the wedding guests that he paid for everything, which means they should at least remain silent while he’s talking.

That was met with a few laughs and a long pause while Mark retired his service station reading glasses from the inside pocket of his dinner jacket.

“Now,” he said.

More to come.


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