Weekend Review
Friday Night
Friday night was the rehearsal dinner, usually held at the place where the couple is getting married but this couple decided to be difficult and have it at someone’s house. I was home by eleven. So I basically went there for the free dinner and some free booze, which I could not even have a lot of because I had to drive home.
During the actual rehearsal of the wedding the other usher and I were standing around looking at all of the people (chicks) and we came to the decision that there were absolutely no single hot chicks in attendance. Now don’t get me wrong there were hot chicks, but I am looking for SINGLE hot chicks. But this was known before hand as I stated in last Fridays post. So the wedding was looking pretty bleak as far as the woman situation was concerned.
Saturday Night
Woke up about 8:00 had breakfast (honey nut cheerio’s, the best breakfast ever!!), watched some television. A friend called and asked to borrow my power washer, which I borrowed from my brother the lawyer, I agreed and he came and picked it up. He said he would be at my house about 10:00 to the 10:15. He gets there at 10:30 (not surprisingly). Now, I don’t have time to give him instruction about the power washer because I have to be at the reception hall at 10:30 to help unload the booze for the wedding. I just give him the abbreviated version.
The D: “Gas there” (pointing)
The D: “Oil there” (pointing)
The D: “Start pull here”
You know the basic shit, which he of course knew how to do all of that but I just like fucking with people like that.
So he left and I went up The Loretto to help unload the truck of about 30 cases of beer and a bunch of wine. Now, at this time I am staring to get a little concerned because I have not seen any hard liquor like bourbon, rum, whiskey, vodka, of any kind, not to mention any good shit. So I find the groom and say:
“Hey Chief, (that is what I call people if I’m pissed off) where is all the good hooch?”
His reply, “What do you mean ass-face?”
The D: “Where’s all the hard liquor, there was none in the truck, you douche bag?”
Him: “I have to pay for that shit out of my pocket so we did not get any, and you don’t need you fucking lush!”
Now I was just about to start giving him all kinds of shit when I realized that it was his wedding day and if he did not want any good booze at it then that was his purgative. (it’s a stupid idea if you ask me, but whatever).
After bitching about that for about an hour I went home and cut my lawn. It only takes about 1 hour for me to cut (and bag), trim, and blow off the drive way and sidewalks so I still had time for a quick nap before I had to get ready for the nupuals.
When I got back to the wedding place we had to get ready for the pictures, so we all started drinking the beer which I had bought and put on ice a few hours earlier. We all had a few beers in us when the pictures finally started. We took all of the standard pictures and had a few laughs at the groom’s expense.
Once the bridal party was finally ready we all went outside for more pictures. I was an usher so I did not have to be in most of the pictures. So I was standing next to the photographer making smart ass comments and just basically fucking with him. As He was talking the pictures I found out that he also took bood-wa (its French for naked pictures I don’t know how to spell it and neither does spell check) photos. (At least that is what I thought he said) and I said “Do you mean to tell me you also take pictures of naked girls". He looked me dead in the eye and said “Dam straight I do”. I then thought holy shit I am talking to a pornographer, just like Larry Flint. I then informed the bride that he was a pornographer and she said “So fucking what, shut the fuck up dick weed! I have other thinks to worry about”. She was not impressed with my sleuthing. Feeling unappreciated I went and shot-gunned a couple of beers.
After the pictures the other usher and I took our post and waited for the crowd to start gathering. I was also in full chick scoping mode. And just as I suspected there were no hot chicks what-so-ever. Needless to say I was very disappointed. But I fought thought it and had a good time showing the people to there seats.
The service was really nice, and by nice I mean it was only about 15 minuets long and then we could get back to drinking.
The reception was also in the same place just down a hallway in a much larger room than the chapel. The dinner was served buffet style and it went off without a hitch.
The entire reception was pretty good until it was time for the bride to toss her bouquet. Now this is when I start to get nervous, because as we all know right after the bouquet toss is the garter toss, so I start to look for a place to hide so I won’t have to go thought the crushing embarrassment of being the only adult out on the dance floor for the garter toss. But my plan to hide on the toilet and tell everyone that I had violent diarrhea back fired (pardon the pun) because I knew the D.J. and he called me out saying that the whole reception would stop until I got off the toilet. I my first thought after hearing that was to kill the D.J. by shoving the microphone up his ass and pulling out his mouth. But there would be too many witnesses so I decided to put that idea on the back burner. When they finally pulled me out of the bathroom kicking, and screaming, like a child that does not want to go to the barber for his first haircut. I stood in the back of everyone and just barely on the dance floor. Well it’s just my luck that when he finally let the garter go it flew right to me, terror then shot through my body like a lighting bold from the God Zeus himself, as the “elastic ring of death” slowly made its way in slow motion I think I almost actually shit myself. Standing there petrified I let the “your next curse” hit the wall behind me and only inches from my head. As the dance floor cleared it occurred to me that if I just let it lay there then the bride might start to feel bad because no one wanted her garter. So I swallowed my pride and ignored my inner voice that is screaming at me “RUN YOU DUMB SHIT RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!” I knelt down and picked up the garter. Yea, I got the garter I thought, now I know how those sorry fuckers feel when they win only one or two dollars in the power ball, big fucking deal! La-tee-freaking da! Then I had to put on a smile and take more pictures with the bride, groom and the lady that caught the bouquet. The rest of the reception was pretty uneventful but fun. I got to catch up with a few of my old buddies from high school which was fun and a ball of laughs.
Sunday
I woke up with a bitch of a hangover. Because when the reception was over at midnight I was not ready to stop parting. All my buddies were ready to go to Westport but their wives had other plans, like going home. I said “nuts to that” and, I walked home, changed my clothes and went to the Twin Cities Tavern on 43rd and State Line, and commenced to get really shit-faced. Then I assume that I walked back home some time after last call.
On Sunday afternoon I met a friends wife at the tux shop, she had my power washer in her car because her old man was too busy painting their house to get it to me himself. Then I went home and sat on the cough and watched television the rest of the day.
That’s it from here, up next the preview of this Saturday’s Crawl for Cancer VIII where we get fucked up and smoke cigarettes all to raise money for cancer research.
TTFN
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