WATERLOO -- They enter holding hands. Each seems a little nervous.

Rajeshree Anil Indulger places her pink purse on a security check-in table. Her pink ankle-length dress sweeps lightly over the marble floor as she passes through a metal detector. A new black suit hovers nearby.

Indulger, a native of India, and her intended, Adnan Sljivo, a native of Bosnia, find a seat. License in hand, they settle on a bench against a hallway wall.

Magistrate Trish Meany is running about 30 minutes late in small claims court: Eviction notices and tickets for driving violations must be settled first.

"Is the 11 o'clock wedding here?" a clerk calls.

Indulger and Sljivo face Meany, who is wearing a black robe.

" … Will you take this woman to be your wedded wife … ?" Meany asks.

"I do" and "I will" follow.

"By the power entrusted to me by the state of Iowa, I now pronounce you husband and wife," Meany adds.

Sljivo and Indulger decided to forgo the frills of a traditional American wedding. Their ceremony in the Black Hawk County Courthouse takes about 10 minutes.

"In my country, a wedding celebration lasts for days," Indulger says.

Many couples are following their hearts to the county square instead of the corner church. One good reason to get hitched at the courthouse stands out: No cost. Couples pay $35 for an Iowa marriage license.

Couples unite and avoid the stress of planning a big wedding -- and paying for it. Church weddings with all the trimmings -- cake, photographer, reception, dance and food for hundreds -- can cost as much as $25,000.

Courthouse services are nondenominational, another incentive for many. Some couples also shun what they perceive as stodgy traditions and cookie-cutter weddings.

Two other couples are set to follow Indulger and Sljivo, but they never appear.

"We perform weddings on Wednesday morning, but seldom have all three couples shown up," says Dick Paxson, Black Hawk County magistrate for 18 years.

Since January, magistrates have married 90 couples in Waterloo.

With this ring …

Magistrates were known as justices of the peace until the Iowa court system reorganized in 1973.

Despite easy access and low cost, confusion still pops up. Before getting married, couples must visit the county recorder's office to get a marriage license. A three-day waiting period is in effect before bride and groom can exchange vows.

One man and woman from Europe didn't understand that part of the process.

"We had one couple come in for their marriage license," says Donna Ellison, Bremer County recorder. "They signed the papers, hugged and kissed, and told the clerk, 'We are going to the airport now to go on our honeymoon.'"

And they were off …

"I tried to catch them in the parking lot, but they had already left," Ellison says. "I often wonder if they ever got married."

Couples also occasionally forget to bring two witnesses.

"Sometimes, one of us at the desk is called into court to witness a marriage," court attendant Diane Max says.

Those in the public wedding business claim they've seen just about everything.

" … Bridegrooms coming from work on their lunch hour, wearing hard hats, and brides in shorts, jeans, flip-flops and bikers in leather," Magistrate Dawn Newcomb says.

Some unions even border on wacky, and magistrates occasionally make house calls.

"I had one couple who worked for a tree trimming business," Meany says. "They were married in a bucket over a tall tree.

"I am afraid of heights, so I just stayed on the ground and yelled up their vows to them."

Animals sometimes play roles, too.

"A llama was once the ring bearer for a wedding I performed on a farm," Meany says.

Magistrate Kathy Langlas remembers marrying a couple dressed in Halloween costumes. On another occasion, it was a special challenge to marry a couple on water skis.

Steve Egli, a Bremer County magistrate, performed a wedding with a Renaissance theme, complete with elaborate costumes. Edward Finch III married Chelsea Bassett on May 7 at Cedar Bend Park in Waverly. Adam Averhoff of Waverly dressed as the court jester.

One costume the couple forgot to order was an appropriate robe for Egli. He -- and his ordinary 21st century blue shirt -- stands out in the wedding pictures.

Bridegrooms once in a while wear jailhouse orange. Magistrate Jim Brandau married Damean Spates and Nicole Jenkins on April 7 in the Bremer County Jail before Spates was sent to prison. He pleaded guilty in October in the shooting death of Thyanna Parsons in Waterloo.

Alas, not every marriage lasts.

"I have married couples in my office and they came back a few years later -- sitting in the same chairs -- to get divorced," Egli says.

Langlas hopes that doesn't happen. As a magistrate, she wants the weddings she performs outside the courthouse to be more traditional and has developed a booklet on ceremony information and wedding examples.

Recorder Ellison, meanwhile, tries to add meaning as well. She sends signed marriage certificates to newlyweds in an gold foil folder.

"I want to give couples something special … ," she says.

Contact Gloria Aleff at SBLGram@aol.com.