Bitter man speaks at wedding

Trevor Davis

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Few people would think of me as a bitter man, but even the most even-minded person would find it hard to describe me as anything but bitter after my recent performance at my ex-girlfriend's wedding.

Amanda, which for those who know their Latin means "the woman that must be loved", was beautiful, intelligent, occasionally funny and, unlike some women I have gone out with, was capable of being in the same room as my friends without showing me up, or copping off with them for that matter. That's probably why I devoted seven years of my life to her. Sadly, to use a well-worn metaphor, her flame of love for me dwindled while mine was still burning bright, and we split up, amicably we thought, three years ago. Since when I have failed miserably to play the role of lusty bachelor while Amanda has teamed up with Colin.

As we has continued to be so "amicable" with one other following our break, and due to the fact that she considered me as a "best friend", it was decided that I would say a few words on the occasion her wedding.

While it may not have been clear during the wedding service or even during the early moments of the lunchtime reception that I had been drinking heavily since the early hours, "just to take the edge off, like", it soon became evident once I had risen to my feet.

Hugh Grant's wedding speech scene in Four Weddings and a Funeral has given men a hard act to follow when it comes to nuptial speeches. He was bumbling, self effacing, extremely funny and occasionally poignant, all of the things I was not during the minute and 33 seconds (it is recorded on audio tape for posterity) that I held the floor enraptured.

I'm a reluctant public speaker at the best of times and had thought of a number of opening gambits to calm my nerves and get the crowd on my side, including the old reliable: "If I could just say a few words...I'd be a better public speaker." In my dreams this would cue hysterical laughter. I had also toyed with the idea of embarking on my speech using the medium of mime. As it was, I simply dived in head first and quickly became unstuck. Here are the edited highlights.

"You may not all know this but since Amanda and I broke up I've found myself an Irish Catholic girlfriend. Big mistake. You can take the girl out of Cork but you can't take the…" (good response from the crowd.)

"Colin you're a lucky man, with, and stop me if I'm wrong, an absolutely awful name! It's terrible! Absolutely appalling. I mean, I wish I was in your shoes today but I'm glad I don't have the name of Colin Arbuthnot sewn in to my shirt collar." (Any muffled laughter that had initially emerged had by now quickly died away.)

"Amanda, I love you, I think you know that and I think we all know that. Well, we all do now don't we? Don't' we?! I said…" At this point the speech was curtailed by my breaking down and the tape reveals loud sobbing resounding over the heads of the hushed gathering. The sound of a lone figure clapping, possibly ironically, can be heard while I am led away.