I couldn’t believe it was finally here; my wedding day. I’d met Jennifer in college and we dated for years before I popped the question last summer. Her dad was anything but happy about it, completely pissed because I didn’t ask for her hand like it was the 1950s. He was very conservative and I was not. We couldn’t be more different. I was a musician and he was the head of a law practice he’d started when Jen was little. He wore suits and did attorney stuff all day, whatever that was. He’d love it if I were more like him, but I was artistic and free-spirited. He was…well, he was NOT.
The day of the wedding, everything was going smoothly. My bros had come in and threw me an insane bachelor party so I was kind of hung over. The last thing I wanted was to see Jen’s dad walking into the room.
“Hey gentleman,” he said to my groomsmen. “Mind if we have the room for a moment? I want to have a chat with my soon to be son in law, here.”
My friends nodded, looking back at me as they left the room and Mr.Peterson, Jen’s dad, closed the door behind them. He looked exactly what you’d imagine a Mr. Peterson to look like. Very intense, bald, thick with a bushy mustache. He was much larger than me and always made me nervous, but he wanted to talk. Maybe this was the olive branch I’d been waiting for. We were going to have to make this work one way or another…even if he didn’t like me and was always a complete asshole.









