On Weddings, Weekend and Keeping My Bitchy Side Hidden from the Bride

I’m trying really hard not to be bitchy. I really really do not want to be that guy. And yet, I can feel it coming. It’s there. It’s brewing. I may not want to be bitchy, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to go down that road anyway.

One of my dearest friends is getting married this Sunday. She’s getting married in Louisville. I’m ecstatic for her. I know this is something she really wants and I support her completely. I’m all for love and happiness and cake and dancing and vows. Bring it on, I say. Bring it on!

I’m just a little bitter that I actually have to be there.

My problem is simple. This weekend of wedded bliss is completely ruining my weekend of gay debauchery.

I’m heading to the wedding on Saturday, driving down with a friend. The wedding will take up all of Sunday. We are then driving back up to Chicago on Monday. Zip, boom, bang – my long weekend is dead.

Typically this would not matter to me so much. But this weekend is a big weekend in Chicago. It’s International Mr. Leather (IML) weekend, to be exact. This means that all of my friends will be partaking in festivities that I will have to miss so that I can sit in a church and watch straight people do something I am still not currently allowed to do myself.

I told you I was going to get bitchy.

Everyone I know keeps asking me about my plans for IML. When am I going to hit the market? Am I planning on attending the Onyx Dance? Will I be stopping by the puppy pen? Everyone wants to know because everyone is going and they want to go with me because I’m hysterically fun and unafraid and brazen.

And every time someone asks me about my plans, I have to sheepishly tell them that I will be doing none of those things because I’ll be in Louisville celebrating straight love. Then everyone is disappointed. And I am disappointed. And then I get bitchy again and have to fight it.

For the record, I love the couple getting married. I have nothing against straight love. I think marriage is great. I just wish this particular marriage wasn’t cutting into my weekend, a weekend I look forward to all year.

But, theoretically, you only get married once (ha!). And IML will be here next year. It’s not going to kill me to sacrifice a tiny piece of my own happiness to bask in the glory of a couple of newlyweds. I’ll get over it.

I just have to remember to keep my bitchy side safely hidden from the bride.