Weddings, ugh. For some reason, uncomfortable dress clothes, sappy songs, and awkward small talk appeal to otherwise rational women, my wife included. She actually smiles when an envelope brings tidings of forthcoming nuptials. Of course, the invitation inside also requests the honor of our presence, by which it really means her presence. I know the bride-to-be just put my name on the invitation to be polite. And sometimes they don’t even waste the gold-foil ink printing my name–they just put Mr. and Mrs. Natalie Bishop.
So forget feeding the world: the best reason to own cows is to get out of weddings. I hate to spill the beans, but cattle prices have been in the dumpster for years now. Economically speaking, we’d all be better off donating our cows to PETA and letting them foot the bill for hay. Currently, the only advantage to keeping cows is a man (or woman if so inclined) can accidentally leave a gate open. Thus, an hour before the union of two dear friends, really slight acquaintances if we’re being honest, a prized heifer can get loose and need wrangling. And a loose cow emergency trumps attendance at weddings. Just don’t overplay the loose cow card, or else your significant other will suspect something’s up and ask you to repair the pasture fence, and repairing fences is tedious work best procrastinated.
Unfortunately, many bridal magazines have caught on to the fact that men hate weddings and are now advising readers to get hitched in barns to re-attract the missing male demographic. Recently, I attended one of these barn weddings. Here’s my firsthand report: Still, ugh.
First, it was definitely not a working barn. I never caught the slightest waft of manure or saw the first mouse. Second, there were no wasp nests anywhere or yellow jackets hiding in old hay bales. Third, the barn was absent dust-filled cobwebs and, in fact, dust. The barn was spotless. It had fluorescent lights and stainless-steel fixtures. It was the first barn I’ve seen that could double as an operating room. Sadly, that bride probably spent a fortune hoping for a true-to-life barn experience and left with a white dress unsoiled. In a real barn, nothing attracts grease, oil, or grime faster than white clothes.
So, brides, if you’re seeking an authentic barn wedding, please feel free to contact me to tour our venue featuring a barn built in 1940 and many dilapidated out-buildings. For a meager upcharge, you can meet the raccoon living in the hayloft. For a small intimate wedding, the old smokehouse accommodates eight people and a hundred mice.
Right now, I have widespread availability, though this is liable to change once word gets out about the affordability of my authentic venue. In fact, you could probably rent our whole facility for a fraction of those fancy barn venues, so long as you remember to feed the cows and empty the mouse traps.