I got married the last time in December of 1983. It is traditional, according to a least one movie I have seen, for the groom-to-be to attend a bachelor party on his behalf, some time before the wedding day. I am not a terribly traditional guy, usually, but this seemed like the sort of thing I should try. I had never had a bachelor party before, so maybe it was the missing ingredient that had caused earlier marriage failure. Perhaps, if I tried it, I would have better luck in my next marriage. Of course, the groom doesn't usually plan and execute his own bachelor party, but I, bucking convention, did just that.
My bachelor party consisted of me, all by myself, going to a video game emporium near my brother's home, where the wedding was to take place, and playing as many PacMan games as I could manage before the minister arrived to conduct the ceremony. The wedding was scheduled for a Tuesday afternoon, just after Christmas. I don't remember how many games I managed to play that afternoon, but I know I lost track of time and that I arrived late for my own wedding. Not dramatically late, mind you, just late enough to be noticed.
My bride took my lapse of good judgment in good humour. My brother and sister-in-law, who multi-tasked as witnesses, hosts and with their baby daughter as the only guests, were gracious as always. The minister was a bit ticked off, though.
Driving down Wharncliffe Road, a few days ago, as I approached the corner where the video place had been so many years ago, I glanced over to see what the building's newest incarnation might be. I chuckled to myself at what I saw.
In good old conservative, London, Ontario, Canada, there was now a drive-in wedding chapel, right there in the same space where I had played PacMan in 1983.
Full circle. I wonder if that old PacMan console is still in the building somewhere? Imagine the possibilities!