What Really Grinds My Gears: Wedding Reception Table Centrepieces

The Tiger's recent post about wedding protocol reminded me of the two weddings I'm due to attend this summer, and the many I've attended in the past.

I've never understood the deal with reception table centerpieces.  Yes, they're supposed to look nice and add a certain elegance to the dining experience, but mostly they just block your view of the other guests at your table.  Then they get given away to some "lucky" guest who finds a ribbon or other identifying clue stuck to the bottom of his or her chair.  Congratulations!  You're now the proud owner of some kitschy monstrosity that coordinates very well with the theme of the reception, and not at all with the style or theme of your actual residence.

I have been the lucky winner of these things a few times, and by the time a year or two passes, I've completely forgotten where they came from and what awful colour scheme they were supposed to coordinate with.  All I know is that some ugly vases and curio-cabinet goods have stolen into my home, unbeknowst to me, and when I finally corner them they will be smashed with a mallet.

This is why I propose a radical change in reception table centrepieces.  If we're going to insist on giving these things away, can we at least make sure that they're practical gifts that actual human beings would want to utilise inside their own homes?  Like an Xbox 360.  I know, an Xbox is not very attractive aesthetically—but it's available in white, which is the predominant colour scheme in 99% of all weddings.  And as a guest you'd be pleased as hell to win one at the reception; you'd probably bail out early just to get home and plug that baby in!  Blending in with home decor is not an issue, since it's going to be stuffed into an entertainment console below the TV.

I'm trying to sell Wanda on this concept but she's hung up on traditional notions of aesthetic beauty during the dining experience.  She's thinking about how it'll all look and coordinate.  I'm thinking about afterward -- years later when you pull some ugly crystal beast out of storage and scratch your head thinking "Why the hell would I buy that?  How did it get inside the house?  Where's my mallet?"  With an Xbox, there's no such problem.  You'll remember where you got it, and you'll gladly let the groom play a few rounds of Halo XVII when he comes over.

Think about it, future grooms.  Functionality, not frou-frou.  You'll thank me later.