There's a point -- and I wouldn't call it hysteria, cause hysteria doesn't quite cut it -- but there's a point where it's all just too much. There's a point of overexposure, a point of no return where a couple has done enough research and surfed enough venue websites that the sites all begin to look the same. For brides, this point -- this number -- can easily be in the thousands.
For grooms, this number could be as big as 5.
Last night, standing in the air-conditioned corner of a event space about two blocks from our apartment, 2E's tried to convince me that this was a viable wedding venue.
2E's: Look, it holds a lot of people. It's well-lit. Aside from the fact that it's a bar, I don't see why it wouldn't work.
1E: Right. Aside from that.
2E's: I mean, it's kind of like a big black hole with no character, but other than that --
1E: Right. Other than that.
2E's: -- it's kind of perfect.
If it has overhead lighting, four walls and a floor that doesn't collapse, it's a goldmine. If any part of that floor is raised, it's a stage. If it's sunken in, it's an orchestra pit.
You might call this point "The Point of Justification," because -- once you're there -- you can justify almost anything. Any room larger than a living room is a potential reception space. Anyone who's ever cooked us a halfway decent meal is a potential caterer. Every actor a potential cater waiter.
This morning we tossed around the idea of holding the rehearsal dinner at Quiznos. Logically, our theme would be sandwiches. Or pirates.