Basement Files: With this ring

The wedding of Don Rowse and Karen Tindal Saturday, Sept. 4, 2004 All Souls Presbyterian Church

PASTOR: We are gathered today to celebrate the love of Don and Karen. Marriage is a sacred covenant, ordained by God's wisdom and blessed by his eternal love. Don, although you're hungover and fighting nausea by breathing very deeply through your nose, you're still deeply resentful about what's happening here today.

DON: I am.

PASTOR: Karen, the doubts you felt as you walked down the aisle have grown tenfold here at the altar and you're absolutely certain you're making a huge mistake.

KAREN: I am.

PASTOR: Don, were it not for Karen's ultimatum last February, you never would have asked her to marry you. Even after three years of relatively commitment-free sex, some part of your infantile, boyish mind envisioned one more year of recreational sex, a painless breakup and then remaining friends until you found a new girlfriend.

DON: Pretty much.

PASTOR: Karen, you've known in your heart for some time that Don wasn't the right guy for you, but you felt trapped by the three years you'd already invested and the thought of starting over with someone new often made you cry yourself to sleep.

KAREN: It has.

PASTOR: And yet here we are. Karen, you've watched with spiraling jealousy the lavish weddings of girlfriends you consider less desirable than you and at some point the thought of the wedding itself--the girlhood fantasy, the excitement of the planning, the astonishing solipsism--became more important than who you were marrying.

KAREN: Absolutely.

PASTOR: Don, you actually thought of disappearing during a camping trip, moving out of state to start a new life and hoping that Karen would come to believe you'd been killed and devoured by bears.

DON: I did.

PASTOR: Don, have you done everything in your power to telegraph your resentment to Karen's family and friends by remaining petulant and distant during the planning process and by glowering throughout the rehearsal dinner?

DON: I have.

PASTOR: And Karen, did you punish Don by crafting an ever-more-extravagant wedding and saddling your young marriage with impossible debts?

KAREN: I did.

PASTOR: Don, even though you've seen the diaphanous peignoir Karen received at the bridal shower, and even christened it with a mock wolf-whistle when she showed it to you, do you promise to get so drunk at the reception that you're unable to perform sexually tonight?

DON: I do.

PASTOR: Karen, do you promise to hold such a grudge about the humiliation that you remain cold and brittle to Don's every caress during what could otherwise be a pleasant honeymoon?

KAREN: I do.

PASTOR: Don, will you grow even more withdrawn and pissy with each sexual rejection?

DON: I will.

PASTOR: Karen, will you punish Don further by ordering another $2,400 in wedding photos that will end up in a box in your basement?

KAREN: I will.

PASTOR: And will you allow the setting up of your new house together to distract you for a few tolerable months from the magnitude of the grievous mistake you've made?

KAREN: I will.

PASTOR: Don, will you disappear even further into antic guy shit--football pools and softball leagues--to compensate for your misery?

DON: I will.

PASTOR: Don, do you promise to complain about how rarely you get laid to co-workers, clients and virtual strangers?

DON: I do.

PASTOR: Karen, after years of overrating Don's sexual prowess to nettle your girlfriends, will you now belittle his boring, unadventurous lovemaking to those same friends?

KAREN: I will.

PASTOR: Will you demand of Don an endless cycle of material acquisition while also complaining that he spends too much time at work?

KAREN: I will.

PASTOR: Don, will you in fact retreat into work to avoid coming home?

DON: I will.

PASTOR: Karen, as you become absolutely convinced that your marriage is doomed, will you inexplicably come to believe that a baby might bring the two of you closer?

KAREN: I will.

PASTOR: Don, will you half-heartedly consent to the notion of a child because it means a brief renewal of your sex life, while also complaining that the ovulation charts have robbed your lovemaking of all spontaneity and make you feel pressured to perform?

DON: I will.

PASTOR: Karen, do you promise to assert complete dominion over the child? Will you belittle Don's attempts to help with the baby--saying he doesn't know how to hold, bathe or play with her properly--and then resent him for not helping out more?

KAREN: I do.

PASTOR: Don, will you grow even more infantile and refuse to help out at all?

DON: I will.

PASTOR: Karen, even though the child hasn't heard a word of the argument, do you promise to sweep her up in your arms and say, "It's okay, sweetie, Daddy doesn't mean to scare you with his vicious temper," just to make Don feel like more of a shitheel?

KAREN: I do.

PASTOR: Don, will you storm out of the house and slam the front door so hard it breaks two panes of glass and them blame Karen for making you buy the fancy door with the really expensive beveled glass?

DON: I will.

PASTOR: I now pronounce you man and wife. Don, you may now ruin Karen's wedding video with a clumsy, animalistic kiss meant to indicate a passion you haven't felt in years, but that will only provoke your oafish guy friends into making that ape-like "woo-hoo" sound. Karen, you are to relent to the ridiculous burlesque, mindful that this is the last passionate kiss the two of you will share until you both get drunk at a dinner party six months from now.