24-hours ago – after a purgatorial car journey – we arrived at a lavish country pile to celebrate the nuptials of two friends. Since then, I’ve taken a crash-course in wedding-etiquette, and now know the following.
Churches are neither dormitories, nor places of comedy.
It’s inadvisable to commence festivities by consuming a beverage called ‘Dark and Stormy’.
The father-of-the-bride appreciates being compared to Sean Connery, but not in a ridiculous cod-Connery drawl.
When the stranger sitting next to you at dinner complains about getting a stringy bit of celery stuck in her teeth, one shouldn’t make reference to her husband’s pubic hair.