There’s a moment in every wedding photographer’s career when you realise you’ve seen it all. Dogs as ring bearers, bridesmaids mysteriously vanishing seconds before the ceremony, groomsmen getting creative with sock choices. But nothing quite prepares you for the emotional rollercoaster that is… the best man’s speech.

Let’s set the scene: a picture-perfect Oxfordshire barn, golden hour light filtering through the fairy-lit beams, guests fuelled by a dangerous combination of champagne and optimism. The couple—absolute legends—had spent months planning every last detail, from the perfectly curated tablescapes to a dancefloor playlist scientifically designed to get Aunt Carol grooving. It was all going swimmingly.

Enter: the best man. A lovely bloke, truly. The kind of guy who means well but should never be given a live mic after two espresso martinis. He stands, clears his throat, and begins. The first few minutes? Solid. A heartwarming anecdote about the groom’s questionable fashion choices at university. A cheeky nod to the bride’s patience. Laughter ripples through the room. We’re on safe ground.

And then. Then, dear reader, he veers off script.

There’s a pause. A glint in his eye. A story beginning with the fateful words, “I probably shouldn’t tell this, but…”

Now, there are two types of wedding guests: the ones who brace themselves and the ones who lean in, eager for chaos. I, being a professional, do what any self-respecting wedding photographer does—I get my camera ready. Because whatever is about to happen, it’s going to be good.

What followed was a five-minute saga involving a stag do, a misplaced passport, an inflatable flamingo named Derek, and a legally ambiguous situation in a European country I won’t name for legal reasons. The bride’s mother’s expression shifted from polite interest to the exact moment she reconsidered all her life choices. The father of the bride put his head in his hands. The groom? Equal parts mortified and howling with laughter. Absolute carnage.

The speech ended to a mix of applause, hysterical laughter, and what I can only describe as shellshock. The bride, legend that she is, took it in stride, shaking her head with the sort of resigned amusement that says, “This is my life now.” And me? I got some of the best reaction shots of my career.

And that, my friends, is why I love weddings. No matter how much you plan, there’s always that one moment of unscripted, chaotic magic. The kind that gets talked about for years. The kind that makes your wedding truly yours. And the kind that ensures I’ll never run out of stories to tell.

So, if you’re getting married and your best man starts his speech with ‘I probably shouldn’t tell this, but…’—just know that somewhere in the room, your photographer is capturing every glorious second.

Because weddings aren’t just about the perfect shots. They’re about the stories you’ll be telling for a lifetime. And, let’s be honest, the best ones always involve a bit of chaos.