Vows were exchanged hours ago. This is the part of the night where things start to go a little hazy.
Awkward, barely audible introductions are exchanged between strangers across large, circular dining tables. Indiscreet exits are made to collect the first round of drinks. And then, seemingly minutes later, the second. The bride and groom (or bride and bride or groom and groom) are formally introduced together for the first of what is, hopefully, many more times to come. The first few brave souls venture onto the dance floor. Photos of the painfully-posed kind are finished—finally. A few more, fortified by the open bar, make their way to the dance floor. Appetizers. Entrees. Speeches: One beautifully articulate, thoughtful, hilarious, the other, mumbled, wandering, endless. More drinks. Ties and shoes are stripped off.
And so, here we are: The twilight of what will be remembered by one couple as one of the top three nights of their lives. That kind of happiness is so electric, it spreads like wildfire across dry brush. Wherever the couple moves, a surge follows. At the moment, they’re at the center of the dance floor, surrounded by tens of bobbing bodies. Soon, they’ll be called over to cut the cake, their cake. Technically, they’ll still have the venue for another hour or two after that, but the wedding will end with the cake for most of the guests.
A sliver that’s more fondant than it is actual cake and a lifeless cup of coffee that was likely poured from a catering coffee urn. After the months of meticulous attention that went into almost every detail of the experience, it’s hard to fathom how this becomes the last impression. And yet, it is, again and again.
What makes it even harder to understand is that it’s such an easy fix. A mobile espresso bar upgrades dessert (even if the cake’s still mostly fondant) and gives your guests a reason to stay a little longer, maybe even fills them with a second wind. The thing about top-shelf coffee, the kind ground and brewed right before your eyes and poured by the steady hand of a seasoned barista, is that it encourages lingering. Call it respect for the process or a basic desire to savor something so good and so fleeting. Either way, it bodes well for your wedding.
Everyone experiences a wedding a little differently, but rare is the guest who leaves bounding with joy and energy. It’s an exhausting affair, physically and emotionally. If you could end it with a little pick-me-up, why wouldn’t you? Bringing in a mobile espresso bar is a simple act that yields a huge reward. Think of it as a means of expressing to your guests (a.k.a. your family and closest friends—and a few work acquaintances), one last time (the time that they’ll remember) that they mean as much to you as you obviously mean to them—a no-detail-too-small kind of thing—in lieu of actually telling them yourselves, because, you know, you’ll be a bit preoccupied.
