The camera is furniture until it's trash

A disposable camera sits on a table between the candle and the centerpiece, indistinguishable from decoration, for most of the night. Nobody's job is to notice it. By the time dessert is cleared, it's just as likely to end up in a guest's bag as in the box by the door.

Nobody is the designated collector

Someone has to remember to walk every table and gather every camera before the venue closes for the night, and that job usually falls to whoever's still paying attention late in the evening, often the couple themselves, on the one night they had other things to think about.

What actually comes back

The cameras that do make it home aren't guaranteed to have anything worth developing. A shutter gets held down by accident, a kid finds one in a bag, half the roll goes dark in someone's pocket. It's not a design flaw exactly, it's just what happens when the camera has no idea what's happening around it.

What changes when the camera is a phone

A guest's own phone never gets left on a table. It's already in a pocket, already something they check without thinking. A digital roll doesn't need collecting, because every shot uploads the moment it's taken, whether the guest remembers the camera existed or not.