Hetero New Yorkers, Please Don’t Get Married This Weekend

 

In an open letter on NYMag.com, writer Dan Amira pleads with straight New York couples considering heading to City Hall to tie the knot on Sunday, July 24—the first day gays and lesbians can legally wed in New York State—to stay home. It seems that so many gay New Yawkers wanna get hitched on the historic day that the city has had to create a lottery to deal with demand. “The last thing we want is for couples to wait on line for hours and hours, only to walk away upset on what was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives,” says Mayor Michael Bloomberg. The lottery provides access to the City Clerk’s offices for 764 couples, gay or straight—though more than 2,600 couples have already begun the application process before today, when couples can officially enter the lottery. And almost 1,000 of those betrothed are breeders. Amira, who identifies as heterosexual, makes an impassioned plea to his tribe to pick another day.

Hear this, straight people: Maybe it’s convenient for you to get married over the weekend, or maybe you just like the novelty factor of tying the knot on a historic day. But the opportunity means a hell of a lot more for gay couples. Every spot in the lottery occupied by one of you means a gay couple misses out on an experience with much deeper personal significance. This is no way to act, straight people. Sunday is supposed to be a beautiful day. Why not go enjoy some outdoor straight-people activities, like attending a baseball game, or drinking an unnecessary amount of beer, perhaps while attending a baseball game. Or stay cool with some popular indoor straight-people pastimes, like watching the new Transformers movie while wearing pleated pants.

We appreciate Amira’s request, but we don’t think it goes far enough. We’d politely request that heterosexual couples abstain from marrying for the next few weeks altogether. We can’t afford all the presents and we don’t want to have to choose between two weddings on the same day. Lets face it: If the choice is between Cousin Judy’s affair, (disposable cameras, buffet dinner, DJ) and our ex’s ceremony (duck confit, ice sculptures, Ricky Martin), it’s really no choice at all.

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