… I tied the knot.

We had a sulu-wearing Methodist minister. Very earnest.

And five or six sulu-wearing “guests” who were Shanghai’ed in for the job.

They were actually the bar and kitchen  staff at the little hotel where we were staying.

The boss organized the minster for us and attendance for the bar staff was apparently mandatory. And you could tell by the bored looks on their faces in the snapshots.

Sweet, huh?

There’s a picture of us against an evening ocean-and-sky backdrop that is so perfect you’d think it was a roll-down in a Walmart photo studio.

Some years later, questions about the validity of our marriage cert. were raised by the British Home Office. I was applying for UK citizenship.

One of the witnesses was illiterate and signed with an X. There was some question as to whether it was properly notarized.

So there is some doubt around the question of whether we’re actually married or not.

And I sort of like it that way.

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