The photographer showed up. Eventually.
Our venue was thirty minutes from home. Not far, unless you're the guy we hired to photograph our wedding, in which case it was apparently too far to leave on time for.
He was late. Not a few minutes, grab-a-coffee late. Missed-the-ceremony late. We got married, and the one person we paid to capture it wasn't in the room yet.
A few weeks later, the gallery showed up. On a CD. One disc, no album, no options, no note, nothing. Just a flat grey square and a "thanks for your business." Most computers don't even read CDs anymore, so somewhere in a drawer there's a disc holding the only version of our wedding day, and no easy way to open it.
We still don't have a photo of the moment we actually got married. Not because it didn't matter. Because the person we paid to be there for it wasn't.
That's the real origin story. Not a passion for art discovered in film school. A genuinely expensive lesson in what happens when someone treats your wedding day like a transaction instead of the only version of that day you'll ever get.
So if you're deep in the vetting process right now and something about a quote, a contract, or just a vibe feels a little off, trust that. You're allowed to ask hard questions before you book. We had to learn that one the hard way, so you don't have to.

