There's one at every wedding.
It's usually a ruddy-faced, clean-shaven frat-type bro with a sunglasses tan. He's clearly had one or five too many before the wedding has even begun, and he's loud. Christ is he loud. And, there's absolutely nothing funnier or more entertaining in the world to this guy than the sound of his own voice, which is why he does his best work in a crowd.
I don't know who or if he will make his appearance this weekend at my cousin's wedding, but I hope he does. He straddles that fine line between amusing and douchey, and no wedding is complete without him. He's like an "amuse-douche," if you will--as central to a wedding as booze. (Don't get too excited, I doubt I'm the first to come up with that name).
Whoever he is this time, he can never top "peanut butter jelly time" bro, a groomsman at the wedding of one of my college roommates about five years ago.
I pegged PBJT, as I will call him, as the amuse-douche of this particular wedding the moment I laid eyes on him during bridal party pictures.
He was the loudest, crassest, and most self-amused person there, but the shuttle bus to the ceremony and reception is where he really shone.
To a captive audience of about 60, this bro stepped into the aisle of the bus and led the entire vehicle in repeated chants of "PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME," in a booming baritone, along with a little shuffling dance and uproarious cackling.
I texted one of the other bridesmaids and another roommate of ours, who was sitting next to me.
"WTF?" She looked up at me with wide eyes and just shook her head almost imperceptibly.
"I'm kind of obsessed with this guy," I texted again. "He's like a total fucking train wreck and it's hilarious. I am never getting this PB&J chant out of my head."
And to this day, I haven't. Each wedding's amuse-douche now goes by the alternate name of "Peanut Butter Jelly Time." He's like Xerox or Band-Aids: a self-defining brand of a genre.
Will he make an appearance tonight? Welp, a gal can dream! Stay tuned!