There’s something about marriage that seems so… permanent.
And with a co-worker’s wedding rapidly approaching, it seems even more permanent than usual. It’s like watching a train wreck in slow motion. I’m cringing, and hoping somebody’s going to put on the brakes.
Today’s conversation–one that’s always near and dear to my heart–was about how coworker’s fiance (and his best friend.) talked her out of trying a photography business because it’s a small town, and she’d never succeed, anyway.
Never mind the fact that a fairly successful photographer just retired, or that there are relatively few pitfalls you need to avoid to earn the wedding/graduation/family trade around here. It’s actually one of the few businesses I could see succeeding.
But her fiance (and his best friend) don’t see it that way, and that seems to be the end of it.
By the end of this conversation–somewhere after we’d discussed the evil women at the jewelry store where she got her rings sized, the ring itself, and the ring she’d originally wanted to buy–my left hand was firmly clamped behind my back, where it was safe from such predations.
I just wish that she made him sound more likeable.