James Leary

A few weeks ago my girlfriend and I went to a gay wedding – and I mean “gay” as in two guys getting married, not “gay” as in I was "my girlfriend forced me to go to some gay ass wedding last weekend instead of letting me watch the playoffs." We had no idea what to expect so we were both very pleasantly surprised – gay people throw kick ass weddings!

Now, just to set the tone here, the guys getting married are not your Abercrombie & Fitch kind of gay – they are lovingly referred to in the community as “bears”. What is a “bear” you ask? Well, in order to be a “bear” you have to qualify in the three B’s: Big (I’d say at least an extra 40lbs), Bald (shaved or thinning or Friar Tuck didn’t really seem to matter), and Bearded (goatee, full beard, Fu-Manchu as long as there were some whiskers). And the majority of people in attendance at the wedding seemed to fit the bill (I said hello to four different people that I thought I knew only to realize once they turned around it wasn’t them – if not for the alcohol it would have been very awkward).

The wedding was also held in someone’s backyard (since the state of California in an act of utter stupidity decided that marriage has to be between a man and a woman – you know, ‘cause we’ve done such a good job with it) with a pool and lots of sunshine. Booze was served before, during and after the ceremony.

Chairs were set up in front of a lemon tree and when it was time for the wedding to begin my girlfriend turned and asked which side we should sit on – trying to sound suave I said “The Grooms”. To which my girlfriend scowled and said “Duh, which groom, douche bag?” I hadn’t considered that, so after five more minutes of discussion we decided to sit on the side with less direct sunlight (that also happened to be closer to the bar).

The ceremony was surprisingly fast and even more surprisingly sweet. Several people spoke and the Groom and Groom wrote their own vows that were witty, funny, and very heartfelt. I was struck by the utter appreciation the two had for each other and how glad they were to be getting married – which I don’t often feel at regular “breeder” weddings – usually all I feel at those is bored to tears and how much the day is really all about the bride and the groom just better not fuck things up.

Then the chairs were cleared away and the reception started. This was my favorite part of the whole day. I mentioned earlier that “bears” are big guys, right? They had the reception catered by…wait for it…Pie ’n fucking Burger! My head nearly exploded. No surf n’ turf here people. No dried out chicken Kiev with room temperature cream of chicken soup ladled over it.

Oh-no, were talking fresh, hot, juicy cheese burgers with grilled onions and all the French fries you could eat. I consumed three helpings then it was time for pie, bitches. Apple, pecan chocolate, some kind of crème, and a host of others I barely remember because my brain stopped functioning after the second piece of apple.

It was hands down one of the best weddings I have ever been to – until the clothes came off and the pool turned into a big, bald, bearded gay grotto. Not that I have anything against it, I just know it’s not safe to swim right after eating.