“Oy, Vey,” said Lady Lynda toAuntie Carol, “Did you see the write up in the Daily Courier about FIFI LeFarge’s wedding to her forty year oldmanservant?”
“Yes, and I quote, Announcing the wedding of Madame FIFI LeFarge to herManservant, Norman FickenZieAuf, on March 3 @ The Cathedral of Paul and Mary inMalvern, PA. at 2:00 pm. The receptionwill be held at the Au Courant Ristorante at 1819 Sanson Street Philadelphia. PA..at 5:00 With typical savoir faire,Madame LeFarge said, ”We’ve been shacking up for years: it’s time to make itlegal. I want him to inherit the estate. I may go PFFT any day now. We’re almost Oedipal as I’m old enough to behis grandmother”.
It might be prescient to describe Madame. Platinum blond, hair reminiscent of Jean Harlow. A fashion face structure with azure eyes. Thin as a match stick: eating was for theproletariat.
Madam was fortified with a silver embossed flask of Remy at all times yetnever got stupid drunk and she chainsmoked Gitaines.
Always stylish, she wore a backless Vera Wang gown with diamond strappedJimmy Chu shoes and he wore…what the hell do you care what he wore. The usualfor a philosophy major from Penn. Understated.
The wedding was splendid all in silver and white and the Governor and Mayor were inattendance. She was known as The DameLargesse of the Main Line. The little red headed flower girls skipped down theaisles sprinkling rose petals all over. The parishioners were aghast looking like the little screaming man fromMunch’s painting. The nuptuals werebrief.
Being mostly aged they had the aspect of statues from Madam Tussaud’s WaxMuseum. There was some twittering ofdisapproval but Madame didn’t give a shit.
There was one unpleasant incident at the reception. A relative who looked like a fat, balding, file clerk abruptly announced,“She was always a slut,” before passing out in his soup.
She replied, “That’s okay, darling because I’m the one with the money.”
Stony silence. Then laughter.