Friday, November 2, 2007

More Love Las Vegas Style

Problems Blooming at Garden of Love
Yesterday we told you about some of the issues in Las Vegas, and I'll tell you again, we got trouble, yeah we got trouble right here in Wedding City. And that's Trouble with a capital "T" and that rhymes with "B" and that stands for BLISS, as in marital bliss. Now it starts out innocently enough. Your eyes lock across a smoky bar and then you dance, and pretty soon new phrases start seeping into your vocabulary. Phrases like, "Do you wanna go to dinner?" "How'd ya like to meet the folks?" and "Let's get hitched."
Then before you know it you're talking about going to Las Vegas to take the vows. Right up I-15 to the downtown exit to get a license at the Marriage Bureau, and we're not talking about a driving license or a hunting license. We're talking about the real kind that comes complete with a tourniquet that goes around the third finger left hand and cuts off all future circulation. But first you've gotta say those vows, and I don't mean vowels like consonants, I mean vows like "I do."
So where ya gonna say those vows, get serenaded by an Elvis, buy your boquet, and have a CD, DVD, 8-track tape and photos to watch for the rest of your life? Where are you gonna find a chapel with a minister who ends his sermon with those seven little words that you're waiting to hear, "By the power vested in my by the State of Nevada... I NOW PRONOUNCE YOU MAN AND WIFE?"
All of a sudden, Viola! As you swagger out of the courthouse, license in hand you're surrounded, inundated, and overwhelmed by people pushing fliers in your face, "Get married here, Well give you a deal, Elvis included, Free buffet." You choose Garden of Love, pay your money, and get hitched. The chapel owner signs the license as your witness and soon you're Leaving Las Vegas and headed hone and to eternal wedded bliss.
Problem is that the owner who signed to be a witness wasn't in town the day of some of the weddings. That means your wedding license is little more than a learner's permit. State law requires a bride, groom, minister and witness for a legal marriage. The chapel might contain one minister, a group of Elvi, three turtle doves and 76 trombones, but if the marriage license is not signed by bride, groom, minister, and at least one witness present during the ceremony, the marriage is as legal as a vigilante lynching.
There's no telling how many couples were victims of the phantom witness. Some estimates are in excess of 1000. The young couple in this story might have told the witness, "Goodnight, My Someone," but the bride no doubt is now the "Sadder But Wiser Girl."
Remember, if you're planning on getting hitched in a Las Vegas Chapel, "You've Gotta Know The Territory," as well as the rules. Don't leave the chapel without verified signatures. Tell the owner you'd wait "Till There Was You" in person and on the dotted line.
Dr. Forgot

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