He's out, but I'm not alone

My younger brother was married this last Saturday, and a lovely day it was. The service went well, it was a sunny day, we wore simple tuxes, and Yankee John came to town to celebrate with us. All was going splendidly, one required reception duty after the other being hurdled easily.
I danced, I drank, and I made a groovy speech. Cake was eaten, conversations were had. And it's about this last point that I wish to pause with you for a moment.
For all those that have been married or a best man, you understand that during the reception you have little "talks" with two hundred people that you don't remember the next day, since you were allowed a full minute and a half to talk before you had to move to the next table, or felt a tap on the shoulder indicating that your current train of thought had just come to a dead end. Most will be pleasant, with a lot of "Haven't seen you in a while- how ya doin?s", and "man you cleann up wells", and the like. Guys know the drill. Well, most of them anyway. It's the females that were the difficulty at this particular gathering.
Now, I'm not sexist by any means, but I do understand that men and women are wired differently when it comes to certain situations, and there ain't no situation more feminine than a wedding, and it sets the tone for them for the rest of the day. For those people named Ted who might disagree, let me point out the differences between a wedding planned by and for the bride compared to one for and by a groom:
Bride: Church is decorated with flowers, accompanied by gentle flowing music, anticipating a lovely service followed by a beautiful reception.
Groom: Bowling alley halts play for five minutes while the preacher gets you to say I do and follow it up with "anyone who objects to this marriage- Set down your bud light."

Bride: let us pay a lot of money for shit we'll never wear again, but every year on the same day you can look at the stuff in a box you take down from a closet. (If you break down the price of the dress and the like by the number of times you view them on your anniversaries, by the time you die you will be down to $5 a viewing.)
Groom: you have a closet full of dresses. How about you wear the one you own that I thought made you look so hot that I should propose to you on the spot? Hell, it tricked me once; maybe the magic will work again.

Bride: We should have lovely music that reminds everyone of how much we love each other. It will be the music of our lives.
Groom: I got a skinnert tape, and it's already in the boom box from that time we fooled around in the stationwagon.

Bride: I want the entire thing to last as long as we need it to for everyone to have fun.
Groom: When the beer's gone, so are the people. Let's go back to the hotel and get them panties off.

TED-WAKE UP!

Anyway, my belaboured point is that all women talk to all other women in a family. In my family, we have an eight woman gossip ring. And here's the thing- they all came up to me and asked, "When are you getting married?" like they were going to go back and compare notes.
For the record, I anticipated this and answered, "When I find someone saner than my family."
The next question from the females was, "So, what are you going to do with the house." How friggin stupid is that question? Like I'm going to pick it up and move it a hundred yards so my brother will be dumbfounded when he tries to visit? To all of these females I answered. "Porn. Not only viewing it, but most likely filming some too. Whe are you coming over?"

Remember people- No conversations. Smile and small talk. The reason you haven't seen me in eight months is that I don't like talking to you. We both have phones and don't call each other. That should let you know that we ain't girlfriends.