I am never drinking again
I think I had the same sentiment after the Jack & Jill party (i.e. the last place I went to with an open bar), but this time I mean it! Yes, the last time I injured myself badly while Russian dancing with the bride-to-be during "Rasputin" by Boney M (Thank God they didn't play it at the wedding). But this seemed to be even more of a mess.
The wedding itself was in a non-air conditioned church, which was killer on my silk shirt, what with the humidex hovering at something like 35. Still, it was a lovely ceremony.
The reception....oh my. It was at a lovely hall, we all got chopsticks to take home (cool!) and they had a bitchin' dry-ice machine! The menu was mostly meat, so I knew I'd have little to eat, but again, open bar! Little to eat + open bar = disaster? What do you think?
I spent much of the early part complaining about the lack of stuff for me to eat and very clumsily flirting with S (while her boyfriend was sitting on her opposite side). I'm sure he would have been more upset if there was any slight chance of my being at all attractive to her. As I drank more and more, the evening became more of a blur. I remember pulling a toothbrush out of a box (!?) and singing 'Love Me Tender' so that the happy couple would kiss. After borrowing a few attached ladies to dance with, I decided to venture outside for a smoke and some fresh air, where I met Guida (I think that was her name) and some of her friends from the wedding next door. I believe we went back to my wedding and danced, then to hers for a drink. She looked rather good for a 36 year old mother of two, I must say. The bouquet was thrown over at the other wedding, which I caught (!?) and gave to Guida. She then promptly left me for some better looking guy, who's more interesting, probably drives a nicer car and has more money. I was super confident (as a result of being so smashed) and still no luck. So much for confidence is sexy. Well, at least for me.
Upon my return to the first wedding, I soon after excused my self to go to the washroom, where I spent what seemed like an eternity, um, yeah. Thankfully I had gum in my pocket. I'm not sure how I survived the ride home, but somehow did, likely blacked out in the backseat. After a refreshing twelve hour sleep and a lot of tylenol and water, I'm feeling just fine. Wait, no I'm not. After seeing all the happy couples at the wedding I was reminded of just how lonely and miserable I am. I knew this would happen. But how can you say no to an open bar?
The wedding itself was in a non-air conditioned church, which was killer on my silk shirt, what with the humidex hovering at something like 35. Still, it was a lovely ceremony.
The reception....oh my. It was at a lovely hall, we all got chopsticks to take home (cool!) and they had a bitchin' dry-ice machine! The menu was mostly meat, so I knew I'd have little to eat, but again, open bar! Little to eat + open bar = disaster? What do you think?
I spent much of the early part complaining about the lack of stuff for me to eat and very clumsily flirting with S (while her boyfriend was sitting on her opposite side). I'm sure he would have been more upset if there was any slight chance of my being at all attractive to her. As I drank more and more, the evening became more of a blur. I remember pulling a toothbrush out of a box (!?) and singing 'Love Me Tender' so that the happy couple would kiss. After borrowing a few attached ladies to dance with, I decided to venture outside for a smoke and some fresh air, where I met Guida (I think that was her name) and some of her friends from the wedding next door. I believe we went back to my wedding and danced, then to hers for a drink. She looked rather good for a 36 year old mother of two, I must say. The bouquet was thrown over at the other wedding, which I caught (!?) and gave to Guida. She then promptly left me for some better looking guy, who's more interesting, probably drives a nicer car and has more money. I was super confident (as a result of being so smashed) and still no luck. So much for confidence is sexy. Well, at least for me.
Upon my return to the first wedding, I soon after excused my self to go to the washroom, where I spent what seemed like an eternity, um, yeah. Thankfully I had gum in my pocket. I'm not sure how I survived the ride home, but somehow did, likely blacked out in the backseat. After a refreshing twelve hour sleep and a lot of tylenol and water, I'm feeling just fine. Wait, no I'm not. After seeing all the happy couples at the wedding I was reminded of just how lonely and miserable I am. I knew this would happen. But how can you say no to an open bar?
posted by King Hippo at 11:32 PM
1 Comments:
That sounds like one helluvan evening. I can't believe you caught the bouquet - that's hilarious!
I steered very clear of the bouquet toss - I stood behind the 30 year old single bridesmaid and the 20 year olds.
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