The Best Time I Almost Married My Best Friend for a Fruit Basket

My dear friend Dan reminded me of this on the phone last night. I can’t believe I had forgotten it: The Best Time We Almost Got Married for a Fruit Basket.

It was some years ago and we were both young and single (a bit like now, except we were younger). Dan and I had decided to go on an all-inclusive one-week holiday to Maritius. We cackled as we perused the brochure, estimating they’d be thousands of dollars out of pocket once we’d hit the bar each day.

Me: “ooh, it says if we are on our Honeymoon, we get a free room upgrade, champagne and a fruit basket.”

Dan: “cool, we’ll tell them we’ve just got married.”

*looks at fine print.

Me: “Oh, you’ve got to show a wedding certificate and shit.”

So this idea, this germ of a notion, escalated from Dan deciding to try and mock up a wedding certificate on the computer and lending me some kind of family heirloom for the fourth finger on my left hand to us actually getting married.

Dan: “We could actually do it, you know”

Me: “Oh my God, that would be hilarious”

Dan: “We should look into this. Seriously, we could.”

Me: “I wouldn’t mind being married to you. In fact, I’d rather marry you than anyone else in the world. This is a great idea.”

We sat and contemplated it. For days. We were actually, really going to get married for a fruit basket. I should really insert here, in case you are not aware, that my BFFFF Dan is gay. We talked about registry offices, what we would wear, how Awesome we would be if we went and did it. Fuck the world and relationships and people, we loved each other and we would have the coolest story that ever was. We’d surprise people at dinner, saying “actually, we’re married. We got married for a free fruit basket in Mauritius” whilst grasping each other’s hand and looking loving at one another. We would turn the very notion of marriage on its head. Dan’s grandmother would be delighted he’d met a girl and stopped being gay (although she’s terribly fine with it).

We’d just be married because we could and we loved each other and we’d get free shit. Unfortunately, as the title of this post indicates, we didn’t do it. I ended up buying an apartment and couldn’t afford the Mauritius trip and we joked about it for a while and it then it just didn’t happen.

However we have been talking recently about The Best Time I Ever Used my Gay Best Mate as a Sperm Donor. WHich could totally happen. If I don’t meet someone before my ovaries wither and die, Dan’s volunteered (I think the phrase he used was “I’ll wank in my hand and throw it at you”) Because we both rather like kids and if we both weren’t a bit on the short side (sorry Dan, mostly me) they’d be braniac supermodels or such. So stand by for that post.

Anyway, as Dan reminded me of this from his London pad and we both find ourselves single once more and at a bit of a loose end, we agreed: There’s Still Time.

Dan: “It would have been amazing if we’d done it. We should have”

Me: “There’s still time”.

Dan: “yup”

He’s coming back in May. Watch This Space.



About ohhellwhatthehell

I like gin, mittens and otters, not necessarily in that order. Here's some stuff I felt like writing down when I'm not chained to a desk writing other things for a living. Please use caution when using this site; there may be sweary words, cute animals and general bullshit. Don't say I didn't fucking warn you.
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