The morning of the wedding resounded with pain. I didn’t feel any, myself, but the rest of the wedding party had stayed up until 3 or 4 AM, imbibing in a prodigious manner. The stripper came and went (at both parties) with only the expected results. When the males began to flag, they loaded up with beer and went for a walk, inspecting the park where the nuptials would be held. Charming had some difficulty walking, so they decided to help him remain upright and duct taped him to a tree.
There are pictures.
Ma, Othello, Cinderella, Charming, Bridgette & myself went to breakfast with my aunt and uncle from San Diego, come up for the wedding. The nearly-weds had difficulty eating much; two hangovers plus excitement squared does not equal clean plates, in the algebra of appetite. The dashed off after a short while to finish prepping the wedding.
Bridgette and I spent the day running tiny errands that would be troublesome to not have completed, but were not a significant thing in and of themselves, taken alone.
And then they married.
Cinderella lurked in a tent erected for that purpose at the top of the aisle, and everyone assembled. She paced endlessly, flushed and speaking very, very quickly. By the time it was our turn to walk down, she was hyperventilating, weaving when she walked, scared to death and even more eager to get to it. I passed her over to her groom, and they did their thing.
I have not seen two people so obviously euphoric being married. She cried most of the way through it, grinning all the while. So did I, to a lesser degree. He didn’t cry until after they were done, and when I walked up to them they were kissing over and over and snuffling and he said, “I got through it without crying. I got through it without crying,” while she said over and over, “yes you did, yes you did.”
There was an entire pig roasted for the 150 or so guests, and things were lovely. They had a cute pair of goblets, with the stems forming each side of a heart. No one had thought to bring any champagne for their toast, so I confiscated one of Ma’s wine coolers and they toasted.
It was full dark by the time everyone was leaving. The newlyweds had a party to go to in their honor after the reception. I have no idea how they survived it; they were both dead on their feet. Bridgette & I hugged them and went back to Ma’s. We were pooped, too.
2 thoughts on ““There’s a no-return policy on brides….” Wedding Part II”
Hm. Lots of pronouns without antecedents, here.
The attendees of the bach. party chose to tape the groom up.
The newlyweds were dead tired.
Me, too. Writing coherently is too much for what’s left of my brain. Did I address the correct “they”?
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