Memoirs

For the last few months, it looks like all I’ve been doing is attending weddings – of people I know and who I barely know. At one of the weddings, no joke, I actually congratulated five men before I finally hit the jackpot with the groom.

The last weekend was a family wedding. Now, the people were out-of-towners; so, unfortunately for them, they turned to me for a lot of help. Back in the day I was a terrific camp counselor. Responsible, adept, accountable. But unfortunately for me - and the bride's father - my years away from camp have evidently sapped my skills.

As the guests were staying at a hotel away from the city and the ceremony was at a different location, the bride's father asked if I'd take on car duty. "Just make sure everyone gets into the right cars and have an extra set of directions on-hand in case the driver gets lost," He'd said. Simple, right? Yeah, not so much. Without my knowledge, apparently all drivers were told to "just do whatever Arthi says." Bad, bad idea! Especially considering the super heat, I was more than a little tempted to direct them to the nearest ice cream parlor. And not only were the drivers looking to me for instructions; everyone was. And directions is the one thing that makes me the most nervous.

"Arthi, which car do I get in? Arthi, when do we leave? Arthi, what time does the ceremony start? Arthi, what's the meaning of life?" The only thing missing from the scene was a whistle around my neck and a brightly colored camp T-shirt. Let me tell you, it took all my restraint to get through the evening, or at least till I passed on the duty to someone else, which I of course eventually did; in just about 30 minutes.