Marc
Self-discipline, Clothing (optional), and Multiple Flavors of Cake; A Weekend Wedding in Kankakee
The ringbearer, this charming young man named Noah, punishes himself if he does something that he knows he shouldn't have done. The story goes, as I heard it, that he puts himself in "Time Out" until he realizes that he's learned from his most recent mistake, at which point he comes out of "Time Out" and rejoins the outside world. This didn't stop him from sitting in the wedding photos on the side of a charming little pond and instantly jumping up after the flash went off to go throw sticks at ducks before everyone yells at him, "Noah! One more, Noah!" until he would run right back into the group photo and giggle ***1***. During the throwing of the garter belt I was down on one knee next to the little bugger making sure he knew exactly when to whoop and holler (those occuring during the time when the groom had his head underneath the bride's dress), and I gave him a better shot at catching it by lifting him up, but we didn't win. What a pity.
The stepfather of the bride was drunk by 5:30 at the reception, before the wedding party was even announced. "Hey Marc!" I hear him yell as we're waiting in the hallway before the big moment, "you wanna' trade pants in a while?" to which I replied in the affirmative ***2***. By 7pm he's dancing and mooning people and grabbing women and dragging them onto the dance floor and lifting up his shirt and flashing his little belly and laughing, and all in a non-offensive, "My stepdaughter just got married, so I can do whatever the hell I want", jovial type of way. His signature line of the weekend came as he was complaining about how large his pants were, at one moment saying, "I could fall in love in these babies, and no one would notice."
My date, TMBWOTP for those of you have been here before, looked absolutely stunning, and was such a good sport about having to spend so much time at my house without me and with my parents, who were also good sports by keeping her entertained the whole time ***3***. I kept having to go take pictures or be somewhere to usher someone in or out, or whatev, or blah blah. I wore a tuxedo from 10:30am to 2am yesterday, and the only complaint I have about it is that my feet hurt this morning, though that could've come at any point, probably the Michael Jackson-esque moves I was busting out during "billie jean" towards the end of the night. I was uber-nervous about bringing a strange young woman to meet my strange friends from home and spend a whole weekend together, but after the initial awkwardness of not remembering everyone's names ***4*** she let loose and got down and had a grand old time, which probably wasn't all that difficult considering the previously mentioned free food (rehearsal dinner especially, as it made me nearly vomit ... probably the clam chowder, which is my fault entirely, and TMBWOTP kicked herself, too, cause she didn't opt for the salad instead), free alcohol (anything before 6pm at the reception, and free draft beer for the rest of the night), and free cake (which was multi-flavored apparently, as I grabbed a chocolate for myself and what I thought was a vanilla for her, though it turned out to be banana flavored which she said was fine at the time, but complained about this afternoon on the ride back, to which I apologized profusely, but didn't care because I don't either one of us were able to finish either piece anyways).
The bride looked stunning, and the groom was smiling like it was going out of style, and they were both super-gracious about pretty much anything and everything, and the groom didn't embarrass me by thanking me for hooking them up back in 1996 in my basement, though we did have a moment together where he told I was pretty much responsible for the whole weekend, and I told him they were pretty much responsible for making it work and last and, so, I almost cried. Almost, but not quite, and I paid a dollar to dance with her, but I snuck one in on him for free as I figure that I bought them about six different wedding gifts ***5***, so my ass was seriously covered.
So, as it stands now, I'm tired, and completely hung-over cause we hit up a bar at 1am after last call at the reception and I slept on the floor in my little brother's room, and the air down there was so ridiculously dry as to be unbearable. Some serious lugey-hocking was taking place in the bushes outside my house this morning, but don't tell anyone cause I don't want to get into trouble. After all, what would the neighbor's think?
***1*** which, apparently, is his way of smiling. "1," giggle "2," giggle "3," giggle ... flash ... nothing. Cutest kid, ever.
***2*** We never did, btw.
***3*** "Do your parents always hang out in their kitchen?" she asked me on the ride back home, to which I replied in the negative as they only hang out in the kitchen when guests are over because they always feel like they should be shoving food in people's faces, which is great except for the fact that we already ate so much other free food on account of the wedding and the buffet and the rehearsal dinner and so forth, that we only took one sandwich a piece away from the parents.
***4*** a problem I, myself, was faced with as I knew almost no one from His side of the wedding party, including the self-proclaimed "Head Usher" who talked, at length, about doing mine sweeps of the church, and literally drew up football team-like game plans about how we would go about getting people from the back of the church towards the front of the church, which didn't seem all that hard to me, but I guess it made this guy feel special at least for a moment, and besides, I've kind of got to feel bad a bit for him as he got stung by a bee during the ceremony. A bee! It, somehow, flew into his shirt and stung him on the right side of his stomach as we (the ushers) were waiting in the foyer of the church for the guy with the balloons to show up. How it got into his shirt, no one has yet been able to figure out. But it did, and I'm sure it hurt.
***5*** including, but not limited to a dot peeler, a cheese slicer, a pizza pan, a salt and pepper dispenser set, 2 pair ugly ass marble coasters, and several spatulas. The cheap stuff that no one else wanted to buy because they didn't want to look cheap, but it's not cheap if you buy a whole bunch of it and put it in a big box and make it look like you got them something big, but they open it and realize it's just a bunch of small stuff, and then realize that the dumbass that hooked them up actually went out and spent money on spatulas for them. So, hopefully, they'll have a laugh at their own, and my expense. Literally.
Self-discipline, Clothing (optional), and Multiple Flavors of Cake; A Weekend Wedding in Kankakee
The ringbearer, this charming young man named Noah, punishes himself if he does something that he knows he shouldn't have done. The story goes, as I heard it, that he puts himself in "Time Out" until he realizes that he's learned from his most recent mistake, at which point he comes out of "Time Out" and rejoins the outside world. This didn't stop him from sitting in the wedding photos on the side of a charming little pond and instantly jumping up after the flash went off to go throw sticks at ducks before everyone yells at him, "Noah! One more, Noah!" until he would run right back into the group photo and giggle ***1***. During the throwing of the garter belt I was down on one knee next to the little bugger making sure he knew exactly when to whoop and holler (those occuring during the time when the groom had his head underneath the bride's dress), and I gave him a better shot at catching it by lifting him up, but we didn't win. What a pity.
The stepfather of the bride was drunk by 5:30 at the reception, before the wedding party was even announced. "Hey Marc!" I hear him yell as we're waiting in the hallway before the big moment, "you wanna' trade pants in a while?" to which I replied in the affirmative ***2***. By 7pm he's dancing and mooning people and grabbing women and dragging them onto the dance floor and lifting up his shirt and flashing his little belly and laughing, and all in a non-offensive, "My stepdaughter just got married, so I can do whatever the hell I want", jovial type of way. His signature line of the weekend came as he was complaining about how large his pants were, at one moment saying, "I could fall in love in these babies, and no one would notice."
My date, TMBWOTP for those of you have been here before, looked absolutely stunning, and was such a good sport about having to spend so much time at my house without me and with my parents, who were also good sports by keeping her entertained the whole time ***3***. I kept having to go take pictures or be somewhere to usher someone in or out, or whatev, or blah blah. I wore a tuxedo from 10:30am to 2am yesterday, and the only complaint I have about it is that my feet hurt this morning, though that could've come at any point, probably the Michael Jackson-esque moves I was busting out during "billie jean" towards the end of the night. I was uber-nervous about bringing a strange young woman to meet my strange friends from home and spend a whole weekend together, but after the initial awkwardness of not remembering everyone's names ***4*** she let loose and got down and had a grand old time, which probably wasn't all that difficult considering the previously mentioned free food (rehearsal dinner especially, as it made me nearly vomit ... probably the clam chowder, which is my fault entirely, and TMBWOTP kicked herself, too, cause she didn't opt for the salad instead), free alcohol (anything before 6pm at the reception, and free draft beer for the rest of the night), and free cake (which was multi-flavored apparently, as I grabbed a chocolate for myself and what I thought was a vanilla for her, though it turned out to be banana flavored which she said was fine at the time, but complained about this afternoon on the ride back, to which I apologized profusely, but didn't care because I don't either one of us were able to finish either piece anyways).
The bride looked stunning, and the groom was smiling like it was going out of style, and they were both super-gracious about pretty much anything and everything, and the groom didn't embarrass me by thanking me for hooking them up back in 1996 in my basement, though we did have a moment together where he told I was pretty much responsible for the whole weekend, and I told him they were pretty much responsible for making it work and last and, so, I almost cried. Almost, but not quite, and I paid a dollar to dance with her, but I snuck one in on him for free as I figure that I bought them about six different wedding gifts ***5***, so my ass was seriously covered.
So, as it stands now, I'm tired, and completely hung-over cause we hit up a bar at 1am after last call at the reception and I slept on the floor in my little brother's room, and the air down there was so ridiculously dry as to be unbearable. Some serious lugey-hocking was taking place in the bushes outside my house this morning, but don't tell anyone cause I don't want to get into trouble. After all, what would the neighbor's think?
***1*** which, apparently, is his way of smiling. "1," giggle "2," giggle "3," giggle ... flash ... nothing. Cutest kid, ever.
***2*** We never did, btw.
***3*** "Do your parents always hang out in their kitchen?" she asked me on the ride back home, to which I replied in the negative as they only hang out in the kitchen when guests are over because they always feel like they should be shoving food in people's faces, which is great except for the fact that we already ate so much other free food on account of the wedding and the buffet and the rehearsal dinner and so forth, that we only took one sandwich a piece away from the parents.
***4*** a problem I, myself, was faced with as I knew almost no one from His side of the wedding party, including the self-proclaimed "Head Usher" who talked, at length, about doing mine sweeps of the church, and literally drew up football team-like game plans about how we would go about getting people from the back of the church towards the front of the church, which didn't seem all that hard to me, but I guess it made this guy feel special at least for a moment, and besides, I've kind of got to feel bad a bit for him as he got stung by a bee during the ceremony. A bee! It, somehow, flew into his shirt and stung him on the right side of his stomach as we (the ushers) were waiting in the foyer of the church for the guy with the balloons to show up. How it got into his shirt, no one has yet been able to figure out. But it did, and I'm sure it hurt.
***5*** including, but not limited to a dot peeler, a cheese slicer, a pizza pan, a salt and pepper dispenser set, 2 pair ugly ass marble coasters, and several spatulas. The cheap stuff that no one else wanted to buy because they didn't want to look cheap, but it's not cheap if you buy a whole bunch of it and put it in a big box and make it look like you got them something big, but they open it and realize it's just a bunch of small stuff, and then realize that the dumbass that hooked them up actually went out and spent money on spatulas for them. So, hopefully, they'll have a laugh at their own, and my expense. Literally.
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