RECORD STORE TALES #1187: The Spider

2008.  Jen and I were newlyweds.  A few people had told us that it was the best wedding they’d ever been to, including some Record Store party people.   I will take partial credit for assembling some killer tunes, but the truth is we did a cool mixture of traditional and unique.  We don’t play by the rules and that’s what our wedding was like.  For instance, I was told that I had to stand at the front of the church and wait for people to arrive, all serious and stationary.  Screw that!  I joined the ushers and I greeted people at the church door as they arrived.  I mingled, I chatted, and I had fun.  I made sure the guests did too.  Later on, the reception was off the hook.

The glow lasted weeks.  Jen and I were the “new couple” and we basked in it a while.  Soon, however, we had to pass the baton on to the next couple.  Some old school friends of Jen’s were tying the knot in Toronto that fall.  While Jen and I still felt like the gleaming new couple, this time we were just guests.  It was kind of a cool feeling.  We were dressed up nicely, but since we were just guests, I didn’t bother with a tie, and I felt way more relaxed.

I didn’t know this couple, but they were very nice and made me feel welcome.  That was difficult, since the guests were almost entirely old highschool friends that I didn’t know, and they’d all break into inside jokes and stories that left me feeling like a 13th wheel.

There was one guy who was definitely not one of their old schoolmates.  Dressed in suit and tie, this man was 10 or 15 years older than us.  He had long black hair specked with grey, in a ponytail, and a fancy goatee.  He sat in the chapel, in the row in front of us.

“Who’s that guy?” I asked somebody.

“Their weed dealer,” came the surprising answer.

“Cool,” I said.  They invited their weed dealer. Nothing more to add.

The bride entered, the ceremony began, and I sat quietly in my seat.  Then, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

Movement where there should be no movement…in the drug dealer’s hair.

I watched with mouth agape as the tiniest spider crawled up and down a thread of silk in the man’s hair.  Up and down, up and down.  I could not believe it.  I whispered to Jen.

“Jen…look at his hair…”

It took a moment, but when the spider scooted down his silk fireman’s pole, she saw.

“Oh my God!”  Jen has a fear of spiders.

I just laughed behind my hand.

We may have had a unique wedding, but we definitely didn’t have any hair spiders.  That was something I’ve never seen since.  The happy couple is still together today.  As for the dealer…I do not know what happened to him, but I pray that Shelob never had a meal of him!