I’m drinking tropical hibiscus in the lounge
when a woman enters the vicinity clopping
her tongue like a horse
along to the ambient music.
I record this occurrence in my notebook,
take a swig of tea,
to meet the clip clop woman
so as to tell her how much I appreciate
triumphal people who enter rooms with song.
“I did? I don’t remember doing that.”
says the lady who mere seconds ago
was a verifiable songhorse.
I wonder if any of the other loungers
here can recall it,
I notice more than I should
like when I ask the man with all the loose leaf notes
and who is scrawling with an extra wide sharpie
what it is he is doing
and he says
“writing an obituary”
and then thanks me for leaving him alone.
Today I overhead a woman saying,
“A successful marriage requires falling in love several times.”
Plenty of advice like that can be overhead inside the Pfister
on the seventh floor
I overhear the rehearsal of marriage vows,
a man and a woman,
scripts in hand
“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
(Which I still always hear as “Do you take this man to be your waffle-y wedded husband?” because that’s what I thought it was when my grandma and I played Barbies back in 1990 or so.)
Maybe it is none of my bee’s wax biz nizz
but I ask them if they are about to marry each other
“No! That’s my sister!”
says the man named Jesse
who is an officiant for weddings.
This is his fifth wedding in three years,
he only marries close friends of the family.
“If I know them I will do it,”
he will marry them.
Jesse informs me that “you could even marry yourself if you want to”
or at least you could according to the Wisconsin state statue of five years ago
when last he read it
as part of getting ordained by the Universal Life Church
“I’ve paid my dues, Miss.”
His first wedding was up in the Porcupine Mountains of upper Michigan,
how waffle-y romantic sounding
it is time to wish Jesse and his helping sister well
so that they may get on with the ceremony,
but there is no bride and groom,
no wedding party,
where are they?
I almost say, “Well, break a leg!”
but that’s not quite appropriate,
maybe “Go jump the broom!” is better?
Jesse recommends, “I hope you’re sure!”
or if the conditions are right, “I hope this is the last one!”