The Marriage of Irony and Rarity

“Well, first I would like to start by thanking every single one of you, on Maverick’s and my behalf, for coming all the way here to celebrate our wedding. I hope the drinks are good and the appetizers keep coming for the rest of the night,” Osmond said through the microphone with a smile. 

         Maverick and Osmond had decided to hold their wedding reception at Osmond’s childhood house. The Victorian mansions by the countryside had a large and colorful prairie for a backyard, plenty of space to hold the vigorous party they decided to host. It was a fresh and crisp summer night. The wind traveled between the countless flowers and snuck underneath the huge white tent that covered the set of tables. Fairy lights were hanging from the ceiling and the columns giving a sense of comfort and charm to the atmosphere. Just like any other wedding, it had to be magical. The newlyweds were sitting by a round table near a stage that was at the edge of the tent. After listening to their closest friends tell embarrassing stories of college adventures, rendezvous back in New York, and inside jokes hidden in their life in London, it was time for the grooms to give their respective wedding speeches. Who was going to go first? Well, the pair decided that a fair game of rock, paper, scissors would be sufficient for a judge. And as per usual, Osmond won.

         “I know you guys are just waiting for me to be all straight-to-the-point with my stoic and cynical way of talking. Sucks for you, I actually planned to give myself the liberty of being cheesy and romantic,” Osmond said. The room filled with laughter as a response.

         “Today is a very special day and I have something to confess, not only to the lot of you, but to my new husband. There is a story that only Francisca and I know, one I never told Maverick. And I promised myself that I would keep it a secret until the day we shared our vows. So here goes nothing,” he said. His hazel eyes clashed with Maverick’s deep blue ones. He knew Maverick could see the nervousness nearly vibrating from his body, his husband having mastered the art of reading him, sent a wink in encouragement.

         “Okay, it all started during January 2008 when I was a freshman in college back in New York. Francisca, my very first friend—please look at her, she looks gorgeous tonight. I love the bangs— and I were hanging out by Washington Square Park a couple days before the Spring semester started. It was unusual for us to hang out in that park because I personally despise the absurd amount of people that go there. The place is just engulfed by a cloud of weed, and you are fearing for your life, hoping the skaters don’t knock you on your ass. But at the time, a new coffee shop nearby had opened and we wanted to check it out. We went, got our coffees and since the place was packed, we headed to the park to take a seat and try to enjoy the day. 

         “While we were chatting on the bench, freaking out about the fact that we didn't have any classes together, an older woman approached us. The woman looked as if she had been pulled out of a movie! Her dark hair was decorated with white streaks pulled into a messy bun, large emerald earrings hanging low from her dangerously stretched earlobes, and a deep purple coat with fur flying wildly around her neck. Very chic. She then came up to me and gave me a black card with “Madame Hypnos” printed in silver. And I thought, wow that is a dumb name. Mostly because it reminded me of the Greek God, Hypnos, whose power has nothing to do with hypnosis. But whatever. The card highlighted information about a 30 percent discount on any session.

         “Then she said something that threw me off. She said that there was something captivating about my aura and that she had to deliver a very important message from the universe to me. That it was of extreme necessity for me to go and visit her, bananas!” The crowd laughed at Osmond’s incredulous tone, he chuckled lightly with them.

         “So, a couple days went by and I was standing before this tiny store on 10th street. For those who don’t get it, that’s like the hipster part of downtown. I remember checking the back of the card to make sure I had the right address. Because, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that we are no strangers to seeing flashy psychic stores around a city. The excessive use of neon signs with flamboyant names accompanied by the cliche illustrations of crystal balls with long nailed hands below them. But it was just surprising how unremarkable this shop looked from the outside! I was convinced that I wouldn’t have looked twice at the rundown brick exterior if I wasn’t purposely looking for it.

         “As I was climbing the steps towards the store I thought, what kind of dumbass would tumble unto the false promise of an envisioned future? Well apparently, me. I was that dumbass with the added value of 20 dollars to spend! I opened the door, and of course, bells chimed from above my head. At that point, I was rolling my eyes so hard that I was worried they would get stuck in the back of my head,” he said and took a sip from his champagne.

         “The store was empty. No one was working the counter and Madame Hypnos was nowhere to be found. However, I heard a voice, the product of far too many cigarettes, shouting from behind a set of beaded curtains by the far left of the shop. She said, “Are you the boy from two days ago? I saw this morning you will be coming into the shop with a fuss.” And I am there standing in utter disbelief. So, I answered back, “I am not sure how many boys you have seen in the last couple days, ma’am.”

         “Then something very strange happened. She said, “Well, are you wearing a purple sweater that has a rip in the bottom right ribbing? If so, you are the boy I am referring to.” I was wearing my favorite long black coat that day and it was buttoned all the way up to my neck. There was no visible sign of me wearing a purple sweater, but I was. I undid my jacket to show her that, indeed, I was wearing that ugly, old, purple sweater I have owned since year 10 of high school. She looked at me up and down and with a smile, confirming that it was me who she was expecting. By that point I was very bothered. My head had a blasting warning alarm going off, urging me to bolt out of the store and run back to my dorm. But curiosity killed the cat, so I stayed.

         “I followed Madam Hypnos towards the back of the room where a small electric stove heated some tea. The smell of jasmine and citrus was mixing in the air. I sat down by the small rounded table that had a crystal ball resting on top. The place was very bohemian. It was decorated with tapestries tinted with warm colors, some cushions piled up in one of the corners near a window assembling a cozy nest, and big red paper lamps hanging low from the rundown ceiling. The room felt suffocating but somewhat comforting to be in. And then we proceeded to have a conversation,

         I asked, “Okay so, what is this alleged calling of the universe you had to talk about?” 

         Then she asked me,“Osmond, do you have someone special in your life?”

         I responded sarcastically with, “Are we going to talk about my romantic life? I am intrigued.” 

         So she snapped at me, “Don’t be so cynical, boy! That is exactly why you had to come here. You will miss the signs and

         completely fail to meet your soulmate. You are too blinded.”

“Let me tell you, I was deeply offended by that. But she had already guessed the color of my sweater without seeing it, so who am I kidding? Of course I would believe anything this woman tells me at this point. So, here we are sitting in this cramped and small room; I am shitting myself in anticipation and anxiety because, what is she going to say? What if it does come true? What if there is someone out there just for me? I see some heads in the crowd nodding, you all are getting where this is going,” Osmond said with a smile while pointing at the guests from the top of the small stage.

         “She lit up some candles on the table, started some incense on the side, and then got to work. Madame Hypnos asked me if there was anything specific I wanted to know. I answered that I had no idea where to start. Think about it! A random woman tells you that she has a calling from the universe, you go to her shop, and then she asks you, ‘hey girl! What's your type?’. Hello? Ma’am, I am flabbergasted because I am still not over the whole purple-sweater-thing, and you expect me to make a thorough list of questions about a stranger that will enter my life? I don’t think so!

         “She just laughed at me. I guessed she found my confusion amusing, but I decided to be honest. I said that I didn’t know how those things worked, and if she had something to share with me that I would be all ears. She gave me a sweet smile and started to move her hands adorned with chunky jeweled rings around the crystal ball. I watched that woman like a hawk. No talking, just humming and a lot of hand movement until she came to a full stop. She opened her eyes, looked at me, and smiled again. 

         I asked, “So, what did you see?”

         We hadn’t talked for what felt like an eternity and the first thing she said to me was, “Please tell me you like men.”

         I didn’t know whether to laugh or to slap her, “Yes, and what about it?”

         She laughed and answered, “Good, because your soulmate is definitely a man.” 

         “I remember laughing at that because of how relieved she sounded. Imagine going all the way there as a cis straight man and learning that your soulmate is someone there is no way you are attracted too. I wouldn’t know what to do if she had said I had a woman for a soulmate. No offense to the beautiful girls in the crowd. After that, she told me three things I had to keep in mind when I left the shop. First, she couldn’t tell me my soulmate’s name, but she believed it started either with an M or a W. Second, she told me that he would offer me something I would desperately need at the time and that he wouldn’t stop offering it in the future. And third, she made it clear that this was a romantic soulmate, and that we would one day get married and live a happy, long life together.

         “I left that shop feeling excited, paranoid, confused, and determined. It was a weird Long Island Iced Tea of emotions just swirling in my stomach and my head. But in some way, it was like a small mission I was on. O.F.S.—Osmond Finding his Soulmate— was how Francisca and I titled it.

         “Fast forward to a week after that. It was the first day of school, and my second class of the day was Intro to Humanities. I didn’t know how I fucked myself over, but I had chosen a class that was 15 blocks away from where I was. And hey, I am not the athletic one. So, there I was, running with all my might in the streets of New York. Jumping over trash-water puddles, zooming through inept tourists, and yet again crossing the weed cloud of Washington Square Park, until I made it to the right building. I didn’t have time to wait for the singular elevator and decided to run up the stairs.

         “I want you all to remember just for a second your younger self in college. That instant of complete humiliation and embarrassment in which you have to meticulously control your breath because it is so erratic you know everyone can hear it. Well, that was me. I was a couple minutes late for the class and had to open the doors to a full and quiet mid-size room while hyperventilating. I wasted no time and sat down in the seat by the door, my legs unable to withstand the weight of my body. I opened my backpack hoping that I had remembered to pack my water bottle, and of course I hadn’t.

         “What a shitty thing that was, but I hadn’t noticed the blond stranger sitting beside me and watching my disheveled self,” Osmond said. He looked for Maverick again and made eye contact. Maverick’s face depicted shock and happiness, an exciting combination. His typical messy blond hair was tamed and decorated with some white hairs, his blue eyes misty with unshed tears, and the expression lines by his cheeks pronounced thanks to the unavoidable smile he was wearing proudly.

         “Maverick was in that same class with me. And when I looked up with defeat I saw a transparent blue water bottle in the corner of my eye. I turned towards him and he offered me one of his side smiles that looked like a smirk. You guys know that one? You think he would look like a cocky asshole, but he just looks so sweet. I remember looking at the water and then him, and I repeated that a couple more times until he chuckled. He fucking chuckled and I swear that was the most angelic and perfect sound I had ever heard. Then, he nudged the bottle closer using the end of his pencil. My first instinct was to reject it. To thank the kind stranger and let it go. But something in me was telling me to take it, and I did. I drank more than half of his water, I felt very bad about it but…as Madame Hypnos said, I desperately needed it. When I gave it back to him, he introduced himself. Maverick. A name that started with the letter M. 

         “After that, I would always arrive late to class because of the distance, and Maverick would always offer me water as soon as I got there. Sometimes I did have a water bottle with me and lied about it, but most of the time I would forget accidentally. And now here we are,” Osmond said between some tears. He raised his glass of champagne, and everyone in the room followed except for Maverick who was too absorbed by Osmond. The love of his life, on a stage during their wedding, with the coolest forest green suit, and his long, dark brown hair in a styled bun. Osmond was glowing under the fairy lights, and the alcohol infused flush on his freckled cheeks.

         “Maverick. I promised myself that I would hold this story deep inside my heart until the prediction of Madame Hypnos came true. The first two things were covered in less than a minute, but I knew it would take a while for us to get to the third thing; where we are right now. I am proud of us. Of the time, effort, and patience we have put into building the relationship we get to celebrate today. And now, there you are, yet again. Right in front of me, offering me something I desperately need; a lifetime of love. Also, something that starts with the letter M, marriage. Happy Anniversary my love, to many more together. Cheers,” Osmond said.

         “Cheers!” The crowd answered.