MCs, Weddings and Other Benign Disasters

As you may know (if you've read the last few posts) I was one of the MCs at my cousin Eve's wedding. Which was last night. I would like to give you an amusing and scintillating rundown, complete with a description of our amateur (though professional) MC performance, but I'll spare you.

Instead I will share with you a few things I've learned in case I ever have to do this again. Which is not likely as both Mary (the other MC) and I, took a vow that this was a first and last for us. (Just in case you were thinking of inviting me to MC for your wedding now I am an acclaimed professional)


(The Two MCs)

1. Go round beforehand and ask as many of the friends and family as possible to clap wildly and laugh, even if they don't think what you said was particularly funny, or if they couldn't hear it, or if they didn't get the joke.

2. Primp for big appearance on stage - a thick layer of war paint and blue hairspray (but let us be different or die) should just about do it.

3. Tap your foot impatiently if the mother of the bride insists on waiting around for more dumb (read unpunctual) guests to show up before she allows the ceremony to start (here, you can throw a mild hissy fit, so she knows she doesn't only have the bride's ire to deal with, but that of her insignificant MC who also happens to be her very difficult niece).

4. When you introduce yourself, lay it on thick: "On my left we have the beautiful Mary Zachariah (pause for cheers of acclaim from the table full of Edgians and BT-ites). You've probably seen her on TV. And if you haven't, pretend you have! As for me, I'm a cousin. And the three of us together, Mary, the lovely bride and me, are known as the 3K Production. 3K standing for (dramatic pause) Tiga Keling (Tiga is three in Malay and Keling is the most derogatory term for Indians in Malaysia) or Three Keralites (we realised one day that all three of us were Malayalees and Kerala is of course, the land of our forefathers). And what do we produce? Chaos, Panic and Disorder, and that's all you need to know about us."


(The 3K Production)

5. Speak clearly into mike while fending off deejay who attempts to come on to you by claiming to be lesbian. "Sorry honey, you're the wrong sex, I prefer women."

6. Spend intervals of MC-ing and introducing surprise acts by knocking back a few so as to loosen the tongue and maybe the bowels. "Oh blurry good, blurry, blurry, blurry good. Ooops... fellover."


(Julie and me, drunk as skunks)

7. If you have to read other people's speeches that have been emailed over at the last minute (Mary had to do this, not me), cut out all the hard words, in fact, cut out whole paragraphs and pages. The groom, whose best friend it is who sent the speech, will still be terribly touched and attempt to wipe off a furtive tear, while everyone is clamouring for his speech, which comes right after, before he has had a chance to compose himself. (And now, over to you, Bruce!)


(The Happy Couple)

8. Once dancing starts, and MC-ing duties are officially over, take off horrible high heels which have been killing you all night, as well as shawl, which keeps slipping off, and get down and dirty on floor with cousins, as well as friends you have just made today. (Nilanjan and Atre, that's you, you lovely, lovely, lovely people)

9. Kiss anyone (and by anyone I mean family and close friends and not gatal DJs) who says you look hot. They're probably being kind, but who cares?

10. Turn into taxi and be very hospitable with the ones who have no ride home or the ones who are stuck because they were forgotten in the general exodus. (Yes, I did this and I'm a saint, see my halo?)

OK, so I had fun. We all did. But that doesn't change the fact that MC-ing or public speaking (although I am a ham and love to be the centre of attention) is not my thing.

Really!

No, I mean it. Really!

OK, OK, maybe if you ask real nice and provide me with lots of booze beforehand...