You’re Getting Married & I’m Going Bankrupt



Seems like a fair and balanced trade, doesn’t it?


It starts in the mail, it always starts in the mail.  You get delivered three little words that make your wallet whimper.


You’re cordially invited.


Translation: “This is a stick-up, and your wallet is the unsuspecting victim,” You pull that envelope from your face and start cursing Cupid, his diaper, and those pesky arrows, because deep down, you’ve come to realize one universal truth: Love isn’t priceless; it’s expensive as hell!


First on the financial hit parade is the bachelor party. No more cozy backyard gatherings with a bottle of booze and a wild dream. Oh no, now it’s a full-blown trip to Vegas, complete with a thousand dollars for travel, room, board, and a multi-day commitment to hooch that makes you wonder if you’ve actually signed up for an alcohol ironman. Who needs a local casino and bar when you can experience overpriced everything in the city of neon lights and regret?


Then, there are the suits. You’re not the one getting married, but you’re going to own a suit that says you are. It screams “Today, I’m not just a drunk degenerate, I’m a debonair drunk degenerate.” Forget about renting; you’ve decided to invest in a piece of clothing that costs you roughly 50 hours of hard labor, and that’s after taxes.


And let’s not forget the rehearsal dinner. You’re not just rehearsing your polite dinner conversation; you’re rehearsing the art of gracefully pulling your wallet out and handing over $200, all because someone insisted on having wine that’s fancier than your entire wine rack at home. Your wallet is practically whinnying in protest at this point, like a thoroughbred horse at the Kentucky Derby of expenses.


Then the gift registry, where logic takes a vacation. Never mind that the couple has been living together for six years and owns a home. Daddy needs a brand-new toaster and a whole bunch of other shit you didn’t even know existed. A cool hundred dollars down the drain, just because.


And finally, the pièce de résistance – the Uber rides to and from the festivities. Because when you’ve already shelled out $2,500, you might as well add a surge-priced ride to the mix. You’re getting married, and I’m going bankrupt – it’s almost like a twisted game show where nobody wants to win the grand prize.

Please like, comment, share and tell me what you think!

28 thoughts on “You’re Getting Married & I’m Going Bankrupt

  1. You made my day! Did you really curse Cupid? 😂
    I used to be an event planner, believe it or not, some people spent half millions on their wedding venues. Let’s not talk about bridal shower, rehearsal, farewell, honeymoon, etc.

      1. I listen to all the time on YouTube. One of the start-ups they talk about that made it is Cards Against Humanity. Give it a whirl. That could be you.

      2. Thanks for the great idea! Yeah I always want to find a way to use humor – once I finish my book – I was deciding to take blogging a lot more seriously maybe like funny life advice? I’m not too sure I know I’ll always want to write comedy in some Capacity – but I also know people like deeper topics too – it’s all a journey

  2. Been there, done that…. though on the bridal shower side… have the Visa bill to prove it.
    The real kicker after going wedding bankrupt? The couple divorces a year later.

  3. Oh yes! On the other side, I was married years ago. I remember tons of financial benefits. It’s like a secret investment program that nobody really talks about! 😂

  4. This is a really cool post! Lots of humor but at the same time, so many truthful facts! I really laughed when I read Rivergirl’s comment. Sad, but true that soooo many end up in divorce!

  5. So true and when you’re a female, it is four times as expensive because the bride wants everyone to match including their fingernails. No more receptions on an unair-conditioned halls, with drunk brawls in the parking lot as entertainment.

  6. I think you’ve pretty much nailed it. I grew up in a very small community where most of the weddings were ‘dry’. Most were Baptist weddings and if there was drinking (and there often was), it was hidden from view. I didn’t know how lucky I was.

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