A Geezer’s Notebook, By Jim Foster
I read an interesting article a while back on women who say, “I do” when they should have said, “I don’t”.
I’m sure thousands of brides, for thousands of reasons, end up with some bozo for a husband when they really should have known better and married the Best Man or some jerk off the street with a safety pin through his eyebrow and his ball cap on backwards. You and I know there are mismatches everywhere. How many times have you met a couple and said to your beloved on the way home, “How did she ever get stuck with that jerk?” or “Where did he find her?” “He, or she, is thicker than whale poo.” (Here I am assuming whale poos are huge and not the little wispy bits one finds floating around in a goldfish bowl)
I hate to mention this ladies, but perhaps you can remember saying to a girlfriend “How did I get stuck with that dough-head blowing the horn out there in the car? I told him five minutes and I’ve only been here an hour.”
You are right, ladies, men can be so unreasonable. Even I had been known to get a little, shall we say, testy after circling the block fourteen times while Mary finished her little chat with a woman she talked to only this morning – and I am the next thing to a saint. Yet, even I am not perfect. Well compared to other husbands I am, but I too have some minor flaws. For instance my mind wanders. Like, I believe I was rambling on about women who should have said ‘no’ and here I am talking about your loser of a husband, the man waiting in the car while you finish reading this column on your I-Pad.
According to Nancy White, an editor at the Toronto Star, the authors of a book, How Not to Marry the Wrong Guy, conducted a survey, interviewing hundreds of women and some men (probably two) about their nuptials. A surprising three out of ten divorced people realized it was a mistake before the wedding. I say ‘surprising’ since I thought the number would be much higher. Yet the majority of those with second thoughts went through with it.
Why is that I wonder.
Well, I don’t wonder because I know and I’m going to tell you all about it. Many brides marry, not because her fiancé is the man of her dreams, but to spite her first boyfriend, the guy with the pimples who took her to a motel after a Sadie Hawkins dance and promptly told all his friends. As a matter of fact, he told me and I didn’t even know the girl. I called her but her father said I was the fourteenth caller that day and if I showed up he’d sic the dogs on me.
But as I was about to say, there are several signs that the man waiting at the front of the church is not the man for you.
There are the obvious signs most sane women can spot from a mile away and they all have to do with fashion. White socks with a black suit, I suppose must be number one on a gal’s list. This faux pas is followed closely by wearing socks of any colour with sandals, flip flops at the opera, comb-overs to cover a bald spot, displaying a plumber’s crack while fixing your mother’s sink and worst of all, eating breakfast at the kitchen table in his underwear.
Which begs the question, what are you doing sitting there while he is eating breakfast? You aren’t even married, you little tramp. You promised your mother you would save yourself for marriage and what do you do? You spend the night with some clown who eats breakfast in his underwear. What I can’t figure out is why he would want to team up with someone with such bad taste in men.
A groom hitting on the Maid of Honour is frowned upon in most communities, unless of course you, the blushing bride, have something going with an usher, then some allowances can be made. Of course if you are hitting on the Maid of Honour we have a whole ‘nother thing, as Dr. Phil would say. Remember he is always looking for interesting guests on his show. This could be your big break to finally get that once-in-a-lifetime chance to humiliate your family on national television. But first, you’ll have to marry that bozo with the white socks. You should have been more careful