This past weekend I attended a Friday wedding. It wasn’t one of those “we need to save some cash” Friday weddings, don’t be ridiculous, I wouldn’t be caught dead at such a party, but that’s the point here isn’t it? That’s what everyone thinks when they hear “Friday wedding.” They assume it will be held at a Knights of Columbus hall, yellow American cheese will be present, someone’s uncle will show up in zip-off cargo pants and a polo because he couldn’t find his “good slacks,” and the music will be provided by the bride’s cousin who dropped out of college and bought the deluxe version of GarageBand. He’ll perform pro bono, as the exposure is more important than the money at this stage of his burgeoning career.
Well, guess what? #NotAllFridayWeddings. I’ll admit that I used to be the kind of person who would roll their eyes and give the James Harden exit when a friend mentioned they were going to a Friday wedding. “Here give the lovely couple another $100,” I’d say while handing over a crisp Benjamin, “they obviously need it more than I do.” However, I have come around.
The fact of the matter is that Friday weddings kick the shit out of Saturday weddings. Usually after tearing up at a beautiful ceremony you’re forced to make the trek home on Sunday morning. After witnessing love there’s nothing worse than having to gather your things quickly as you roll out of bed, alone, at 12 in the afternoon when the Airbnb had a 10 AM move out time and the only reason you’re up is because the family is already back home. The parents will give you a pity stare and you’ll find yourself the topic of conversation at dinner that night, as they tell the children that they should strive to be a better person than you when they grow up.
When you have a Friday wedding you wake up on Saturday, because that’s the way the calendar works. You get to relax and actually spend time with the couple and your friends. You get to go to the beach and order Dominos there (they will deliver to the beach, I can confirm). Everything moves a little slower and is more relaxed rather than getting in Friday night, making small talk all Saturday, then rushing out on Sunday.
Don’t give me the “well you miss work” nonsense either. First of all, work stinks and you should look for any excuse to miss it. I’ll skip work if I slept funny or had a bad shower in the morning, so drinking irresponsibly with friends while dressed fancy will always win out in that battle. But also, if the people getting married aren’t worth skipping a day of work then you probably don’t need to be at that wedding anyway and won’t be missed.
Stop shaming Friday weddings, they’re the best. But, of course, fuck Sunday weddings forever.