Wedding Toasting Sets, The Tale of a Hero or Zero!
by Melissa Cruz,
Toronto, June 11, 2007
I sat there beaming at the new couple, jitteriness prompted me to dig deep into my trouser pocket and grab the ball of crumpled paper. Immediately I found myself at the mercy of my nerves. I looked into my palm and for a second I thought that I was going to collapse on the floor but alas I regained consciousness.
There was a vibrant nature in my best friend’s eyes and I could not help but feel a pang of jealousy because I was not responsible for his fiery mood during this wedding ceremony for them. She was like a princess derived from one of the fairy tales I read when I was trying to lull my boy Max to sleep. Lochs of blonde bouncy curls radiating a stunning and admirable glint, lips painted with crimson berry and donning a custom-made white designer ball gown.
It was all a merry scene but deep within me I was mourning. I managed to disregard the latter emotion and straightened out the crumples. In a bid to allow the passage of air in my esophagus I shifted and adjusted the bowtie, easing the strangulating feeling which was edifying against my will. I cleared my throat and when I tried to speak only air escaped. I then grabbed the glass of clear liquid and gulped some down my throat. It was instantaneous relieved and I subdued the heat flashes I was experiencing. With my throat well-oiled I was ready to turn the ignition key once more. This time round I was victorious as I was alarmed by the sound of the roaring engine; life at last! Life at last for the impending task ahead of orating that wedding toasts to the floor.
On the dance floor a number of patrons were engaging in a thrilling tango dance that incited one to feel like dancing despite not being able to rhythmically gambol to the enchanting tune. I focused my attention on the paper in front of me, the hieroglyphics scrawled on it were definitely my own. I mouthed each word closing my eyes in an effort to stimulate the part of my brain chiefly responsible for recollection. I found my thoughts dithering but I forced myself to ignore the discomposure and continue feeding my brain with more words. I kept looking at the wedding favours in front of me for inspiration but to no avail.
My thoughts lingered to my accomplice, the wedding toasting set. It was a beautiful pair of hand-blown gold lined frosted pair of trumpet flutes. My mind once again took a long trail down memory lane and at that moment I found myself in toast set heaven. I saw the fragile wedding supplies lining up on steep stairs there and there was a variety of them; etched toast sets, silver lined flutes, glistening goblets, dual tone champagne glasses, heart shaped intertwined sets as well as extravagant crystal and ivory toasting glasses. In that distinct row they were all happy, I then heard the clatter of the glass logs of a wind chime. The noise was aggrandizing until it was apparent and loud. I startled out of the day dream and came face to face with the monster that had initially been responsible for my somber mood; the dreaded " Best Man Speech". Arrghh!
I said a little prayer and got up from my seat next to my darling friend and grabbed the microphone. My hair was disheveled and I ran my sweaty fingers through it trying to tame my porcupine spikes. I fumbled with my tie and I heard a few giggles from the audience. On seeing this, my self confidence which was roaming at levels of zero managed to further sink below and reach sub-zero. I was nervous beyond the name itself, a jillion eyes were glaring at me with intimidation. My friend then gave me a shove and straightaway my confidence catapulted to staggeringly high levels. I emerged from my trance and found myself telling the audience about my anxiety day mare. They laughed in unison and then I began my speech. The day had been saved by an unlikely hero; the toasting set.
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