The Best Man Toasted the Wrong Bride By Name

My cousin's wedding was gorgeous, right up until the toasts. The best man was an old college friend of the groom, clearly nervous, clearly had prepared for weeks, and clearly had one older draft of the speech living rent-free in his memory.

He stood up, tapped the microphone, and delivered a genuinely moving speech about how he had watched his best friend grow up and finally find the love of his life. The room was misty-eyed. Then he raised his glass and said, warmly, the wrong name.

Not just any wrong name. The name of the groom's ex-girlfriend of four years, whom the entire extended family knew, and who the bride had heard quite enough about already.

There was a silence you could have parked a car in. The best man, riding the emotion, did not notice. He kept going, said something lovely about the couple, and closed by wishing all happiness to the groom and, once more, by name, to the ex-girlfriend.

The bride set down her fork very gently. The groom made a small sound. Someone at the back laughed and tried to turn it into a cough. The best man finally registered the temperature of the room, replayed his own last sentence in his head, and went the colour of the tablecloth.

To her eternal credit, the bride stood up, took the microphone, and said, "For the record, I am the one he married, and I would like that on tape." The room erupted. It became the story of the wedding. The best man apologized approximately nine hundred times. They are all still friends, and the bride brings it up at every anniversary.