I Do (Oh Shit!)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Roger and Rosemary have been together for 4 years. But Roger is harboring a terrible secret.

Submitted: January 22, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 22, 2012




“We are gathered here today…”

Oh fuck. After all of his rants here stood Roger; Shame-faced, eyes watering and feeling a little hot under the collar. He really wasn’t sure what had happened in the past 4 years of his life to force him into such a stupid/disastrous/rotten/fucking-shambolic move.

“…to witness the unification of…”


“Rosemary and…”

Oh shut up you old prick.

He can feel her shuffle next to him, desperate for the minister to hurry his old ass up so she can stand on stage for everyone to give her a standing ovation. Well done Rosemary. Well done for sticking with this working-class ruffian for four years. You’ve finally found someone more insufferable than yourself!

Although nobody’s more insufferable than Rosemary, really. Her fucking feminist politics are enough for Roger to munch on a handful of his own crap just to puke up his defiance. Oh Roger, you’ve got to propose. She exclaimed, clapping her hands over the wide gaping hole in the middle of her face. You’re the man after all! That big hole; which so much nonsense poured from like she was the minister himself. Of course, after stating this she would be right outside some corporation’s front door with a sign blaring WOMEN DESERVE EVERYTHING. Translation: ROSEMARY DESERVES EVERYTHING AND BUGGER THE REST.

After his proclamations of how oppressive the institutionalisation of romance in the form of marriage is, after the dates he could barely afford on his student loan and…oh-dear-me…after finding out the little slut had paid off her student loans by selling her body, Roger was still enough of a sap to get down on one knee in the middle of an overpriced restaurant designed purely for guffawing gimmers and lanky lords and propose.

He shivered at the future. He didn’t shiver often; most of the time he was so hot that droplets of sweat would form on his chest in the coldest of climates (the stuffy buildings where just too much for his psyche he supposed) but today was different.

Today was wrong. That being said, most days with Rosemary felt wrong but today was just the cherry she got popped long ago on the cake. Eugh; there’s a thought. Roger felt a smile crawl up the side of his mouth as he thought of Aunty Eunice munching on that cake. There you go you stupid bitch – revenge for years of cheek pinching and wedding dancing.

Marriage with the perfect girl would be a big mistake, nevermind with this hypocrite. Roger looked at her. The dress was barely long enough to cover the black pants she was wearing. He could tell they were black because the material was too thin to cover the lace. Of course, being a lad, Roger would normally have thought this was quirky, interesting and sexy even with his parents here; which they weren’t God rest their soul.

No, the problem wasn’t the dress; it was that Rosemary had tried to cram her fat arse into the dress which was blatantly too small for her. What had his life come to when he was so desperate to find love that he had chosen someone who would rather have chosen a creamcake? A load of shit, that’s what it had come to.

Ah well, at least he wouldn’t be stuck with her for long. More people got divorced than stayed together forever (52% now wasn’t it?) and with her tartiness he was sure he’d be free soon enough. He gave it 6 months before he caught her in bed with another gullible git.

The wedding was nice at least. Well; it ought to be considering he’d spent every penny he had on it. Ruddy Rosemary was too busy out protesting against the 1% to get a job. “For the greater good,” she’d say. Fuck that. She was just a layabout who hadn’t worked a day in her life. Mummy and Daddy had paid her way through Uni and now he was paying her way through life! The fact that she was out in a miniskirt and a low-cut top protesting against the rich was so ridiculous anyway! Her bloody father was knighted and sat on a large portion of moola. If the government actually listened to the hippy protesters who were living off of state benefits and scrapped the rich, Rosemary wouldn’t have been able to go to Uni…and wouldn’t have met Roger…

He reminded himself to get a sign when he got home. Pronto.

“If anybody here has any reason…”

He supposed it was too much to ask the good lord for someone to step forward right now; considering his consistent blasphemy. The minister licked his serpent’s tongue and spat fire as he eyed up his audience, waiting for that guy to step forward. You know; that one that bursts into the church to announce that he loves the bride.

Nobody ever does that for the groom.

“I do.”

Woah. Did somebody actually come forward? Not a girl, unfortunately, but even so. Things are actually going to get interesting at a wedding for once! Fucking yaaaas.

Jabba the Hut stumbles out of the crowd; his glasses falling to the ground and clinking with a destructive din. Roger frowns softly and sniffs. The interrupter’s greasy hair is damp and clings to his forehead. Who invited this loser!?

“I do.” He pants, sweat falling into his eyes. “Rosemary you can’t marry him.”

“Barry.” Rosemary’s piggy little eyes widen and she grits her teeth. “What are you doing here?”

Jabba AKA Barry turns his back to her and spreads his arms wide like Christ. “Last night, Rosemary visited me…and spent the night.”

Roger realises he’s laughing with utter mirth and tries to slap a look of mortification on his face. How dare you come in here and interrupt my special day, his look says, before slipping back into Barry you beautiful man!

“We made love. And I…” Barry turns back to Rosemary, wiping the sweat from his eyes and gibbering like an idiot. “I love you Rosemary.”

The Church gasps and Roger quickly widens his eyes. Oh no! My…er…baby…girl…

Rosemary looks at Roger and swallows. “I’m sorry Roger,” she chokes back some tears. The congregation watches them all, tissues at the ready. The end of a beautiful romance is never an easy thing to watch. Roger’s bottom lip trembles. The memories they shared together whizzing around in his mind as he tries…tries to hold it all together.

“I can’t do this.”

“Oh…” Roger sniffs. “I understand.”

“Goodbye…my love.” And she departs with Barry in tow.

Silence follows until the church door creaks open and then slams shut. All eyes turn to Roger who looks at the ground, swallows, looks back at the crowd, swallows, and then back at the minister.

He swallows.

“Thank fuck for that!”

© Copyright 2019 Alex Lamont. All rights reserved.

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