... a bit of drama.
Nothing to do with the stage, you understand, except that Tboy found it on the blog of playwright Sheila Callaghan, whose We Are Not These Hands goes up at Catalyst this week.
Tboy watched, transfixed (as a deer by headlights) as the cheerful getting-ready-for-the-wedding moment is shattered by ... the arrival of the bride, come from an unsatisfactory visit to the hairdresser.
You might think at the beginning that it's gonna blow over, and they'll all laugh and toast and exeunt omnes in the direction of the church.
But no, this is more like something out of the Greeks: It's just keeps getting worse...
(Curses. Now it turns out the whole thing's faked. By a theater major, of course.)