British star Michael Jian, like Huang Xia, was married in Las Vegas. Here's his story:
I watched an ad on TV where the woman I fell in love with at first sight, she was the most beautiful and attractive I had ever seen in my life, I don't know where she is, all I know is that I am in love with her.
After a long time, I finally tracked down her modeling agency, got to know her, and learned that her most Indian girl was named Sarija.
We dragged on for a while, and the reporter came to visit me: "Why fall in love with an Indian woman?" ”
"I'm only in love with one woman, and that's just the kind of woman who happens to be Indian, and that's it." I say.
To the exotic duck, the newspaper was still a little racist: "Michael Jian lives in sin." ”
I replied to the reporter: "Sin is not a fact, but an idea." You think it's sinful, I think it's happy, so it's just an idea. You don't live in an idea. ”
In short, we decided to get married, and the easiest and fastest place was, of course, Las Vegas in the United States.
I was lucky enough to have a film called Sleuth starring Lawrence Orliflower and me about to be released in the United States, and I took advantage of the promotional period in the United States to go with Sarija, accompanied by my promotional managers Shelly Pan and Dennis Slinga.
We flew from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, thinking that we would be unaware and unconscious.
If you're married in Las Vegas, you know you'll have to go to a court called Clark Country Court, which takes about twenty minutes, and then you can go to one of the dozen or so chapels in the town.
As I walked out of the courtroom, I was taken aback, and standing in front of us was a small figure with all sorts of cameras on his body.
"I'm a local photographer," he said, introducing himself, "if you ask me to take your wedding photos, I'll print a set for free and keep it for you in my memory, and I keep it a secret, Mr. Michael Ken." ”
"What if we won't take pictures of you?" I asked knowingly.
"Well," he said, "in five minutes, journalists all over Las Vegas will be tracking you." ”
Anyway, none of us had a camera with us, so we nodded in agreement.
On the way to church, I asked him, "No one knows that we are here, how can you be so powerful?" He explained: "Oh, my girlfriend is a flight attendant, and she called me and said she saw you guys. People who come here are either gambling money or getting married. ”
We finally arrived at a "chapel in the grass" with a very romantic name.
The man who handed the marriage certificate to the janitor, who looked over and told us to sit down and wait, called the judge, who said he would be there in twenty minutes. While waiting, the gatekeeper kept talking to Dennis as he found out that Dennis was the one in charge of the economy and paid for us.
"Some extra expenses, if you need it, someone will take a photo of you out of the box, and, do you want a cassette tape of the marriage process," he said. Do you want a bouquet of flowers for the bride? It is an orchid soaked in a plastic bottle and wrapped in transparent adhesive paper. ”
When Dennis took pictures one by one, I saw that there were pictures nailed to the wall, including several movie stars who had also been married here, but most of the couples I recognized were now divorced.
The judge finally came in a sweaty sweat, explaining that today was Friday and that Friday the most people were getting married. The church played the recorded music, very loudly. The wedding ended quickly, probably because of Friday.
When we were done, we walked out and the gatekeeper asked if we wanted to sell the flowers wrapped in scotch paper and dipped in plastic bottles back to the church for half the price. I sold my bouquet, and my wife's wouldn't sell it and wanted to stay.
The photographer told us to take a few more pictures in front of the church and said that he would send us the whole set by mail. We left him an address, thinking he would only sell the photos to the newspaper and would never send them back to us. It is a shame that the photos were actually sent.
Everything was done, I was forty years old and married again.