On Sunday, July 1st, your friendly Hotel Lobbyist got married at the W Hotel in Washington, DC. The day was at least three decades in the making since I’ve known my bride since her birth. It fulfilled a lifelong dream from several different perspectives. We got engaged on the coldest day in late December and got married just six months later, on the hottest weekend of the summer, proving that, above all whether phenomena, it can be done in such a short length of time.I must extend the most sincere gratitude for friends and family who went through some elaborate lengths to be at this event. Just two days prior to the wedding, the DC metropolitan area encountered a freakish storm, a massive cell which brought 80mph winds, torrential rain, and hail in some spots. Though most guests were not yet in the city by this time as we were, damage to Amtrak’s rails had the plans of one of my guests from New York derailed, and one of my groomsmen coming from Charlottesville off track as well. But on the fly, my friend from New York cabbed from Penn Station to Laguardia and, using airmiles, got himself on the next flight to DC. My friend from Charlottesville, without hesitation, moved from the rail counter to the car rental counter and got himself four wheels to drive to DC.
We enjoyed our fair share of last minute hurdles – just as most brides and grooms do. For example, about a month before our wedding, the W notified us that our catering manager, with whom we’d built excellent rapport, was resigning her post. Though we had confidence in our new catering manager as she was neither new to the W nor new to weddings, we were understandably nervous about rebuilding rapport in under a month. Four days before our wedding, when we were supposed to have our first direct conversation with our photographer, who previous to this point had learned of the details of our wedding only through the agency’s comprehensive internet based organizer, we learned he’d had knee surgery, could no longer walk, and thus would not be our photographer. As it turned out, the substitute photographer to whom we were assigned may have been our favorite vendor altogether! Voila! And finally, our friend, the Archbishop, whom we’d had notable rapport and were thrilled to have officiating our ceremony, notified us about a week before the wedding that he’d be returning from Dallas via Charlotte that afternoon – arriving at BWI at 2pm, three hours before our ceremony was set to start. The commute to BWI could take anywhere from forty five minutes to a couple of hours – he had about an hour of play (for the plane to be delayed, or traffic) before we were having my friend marry us in a pseudo ceremony. You know the Archbishop did not disappoint!
We were lucky on so many fronts! Were we to do it again, we’d change very little. But you know what, we’re not going to do it again! And that’s the biggest relief in the world!