09 August 2015
Story #783
R. Linda:
Bachelor party - Done! Rehearsal dinner - DONE! Wedding - DONE! Gabe--quite a bit lighter in the pockets - DONE! Dragon in New Jersey and Gabe in New Hampshire - DONE, DONE, DONE, DONE, DONE! Life resumes - DONE!
We came home last night to very chilly weather compared to what we had in Jersey. It feels like Fall, and the dog is acting like we were gone for months. The cats (yes, we now have two) didn't notice our absence, and if they did, they certainly don't care we are home. Anyway, all kiddos and old woman accounted for. The wife is finally basking in an after-wedding glow and recaps it all like a sports announcer. She could do a better job than I, but then she'd remember a certain set of keys, and the story would end abruptly. And it'd be all my fault because I decided we should drive instead of fly. So, here goes.
THE GETTING THERE:
We decided it might be good to let Mam fly down with Dragon and save us the howling baby syndrome on the plane. Our two older kiddos would be fine on a plane, but the youngest . . . not so much. We could envision the plane being turned around with the news media having a field day, or worse, the crew putting parachutes on us and dropping us out. The wee one cannot sit still, and he's started the terrible twos, along with a high-pitched screaming like a girl if he doesn't get what he wants. Yup, safer for our sanity to drive. This way, if he pitched a fit, we could pull over and deal with it.
THE BACHELOR PARTY
As with all me adventures, this one was not without its pitfalls or pratfalls, as the case is much more likely to be when it comes to yours truly, so starting with the bachelor party. There were about 20 of us to start off, but by the time we arrived at the brewery (yes, that's where we went), there were about 40 of us, and the number continued to grow. We were each given an unflattering t-shirt with the groom's face on it, looking glum. The photo used, he had no clue where it came from, but there it was staring him in the face all night, everywhere. Can you imagine walking into places with all your friends wearing your face on their shirts? Awesome! LOL
We visited a microbrewery and were given samples (hefty ones) and educated on the art of beer brewing. We even saw that the brewery had extended into its own mini-vodka distillery, and yes, we got a taste of each strange brew, so we were well on our way to inebriation. When done with the hour tour, we got into a limo (because who could drive?) and off to about thirty pubs. It was more than that, but after the first ten, you lose count. Each pub had FOOD, so at least we weren't all drifting through the alcohol haze on the equivalent of petrol in our guts.
The jokes and practical ones grew raunchier as the night progressed, and we ended up at a club with throbbing bass and percussion permeating the entire block. Lots of hoots and drinking, drinking and dancing, joking and drinking, and general drinking mayhem. The groom got the usual call (that all grooms do) that comes in the wee hours from his bride-to-be, "Where are you? My bridal party was over at eleven, it's 2:30 in the morning. I'm all alone, when are you coming home?" and then, "Do I hear women laughing? What's going on, where ARE YOU?"
Shortly after that, with a lot of man-giggling (not pretty) by those listening to the bride on speakerphone (which she didn't know she was on), we knew enough to end the ribald merriment and break up the good time, of which very few of us could remember the next day. The only thing that perplexed each one was one hell of a slamming hangover. Where did that come from, I wonder?
THE REHEARSAL DINNER
With a few hours to recover, the next night we were off to rehearsal dinner. The restaurant was an Italian establishment, as I have found they usually are for rehearsal dinners. Instead of having designated tables (which had the Dragon Lady all a-fluster), we were told to sit where we wanted. This, as you can imagine, established chaos right away. Part of the family was at one end of the room and shouting at the other from what seemed like miles away. It was not only family and wedding party, but a few close friends and extended family, making for quite a loud crowd. Hey, but it's Jersey they talk or tawk loudly.
We were in a backroom, but the bar was just outside the door, so all that elegant wine being served was soon interspersed with beer and mixed drinks. The duty of the groom in these situations is to drink himself into courage for the next day to brace himself to take that walk down the aisle and say those "I do's." This is at least what all his groomsmen told him, so they had him pretty much in his cups before the main entree arrived. The bride didn't seem to notice because "her people," as she called her bridal party, were all about her. Poor thing, wait until she sees those photos of her and her beloved, her looking all smiles, perky and excited and him, all bloodshot eyes, drunken demeanour and tongue lolling out as he fought to stay conscious.
The dinner went without a hitch somehow, and that left the wedding the next day. All was going too smoothly not to have a spanner thrown in there somewhere, and it was coming!
THE WEDDING
The wedding day was bright and beautiful; the sea air was refreshing, and everyone was jovial. However, the hectic getting-ready process soon set in, and it remained that way until the ceremony itself. We went to the hotel where the bridal party had suites on both sides of the building to keep the couple from seeing each other on their big day. I had dropped Tonya and me youngest off at the bride's side, and everything there was happy, happy, giggles, whispers, and general excitement. The other two kiddos were with me Mam, and not part of the wedding, but the wee man was a ring bearer for the ceremony. I noticed the ladies had a table with cheese, crackers, wine, pastries, etc., and no one was partaking because "I need to fit into my dress" was the general excuse. I was invited to have a glass of wine before I left; they gave me a napkin of cheeses and assorted crackers, and I was happy to be on me way.
On the other side of the building, the groomsmen were in quiet conversations nursing yet again, hangovers and generally, it felt subdued over there. The occasional boisterous buddy would turn up to wish them well, to a chorus of hushing, heads hurt. I tell ya! Men right? LOL. I was good, I had me wine, which they were all asking me why I got special favours from the bride and not them. I told them I was better looking than all of them, and that was why, and besides, she liked me best.
There were crisps of sorts, dips, and beer in our section, so it wasn't like we had nothing to eat. It was the bride and groom's choice of complimentary munchies they wanted before the ceremony. By the time we had to go to the venue, most of those munchies on our side (at least) were reduced to crumbs.
Before we left, I was asked to deliver a message to the bridesmaids (since I was reminded they liked me best), and I met the bridal party as they came down the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, I knew some catastrophe had struck. The faces were all concerned, and me wife's most of all!
SIDE STORY
Before I tell you what happened, let me remind you that our youngest has an alter-ego named Georgie. I'm not sure if I've ever told you the story of Georgie, but if I have, I'll just refresh your memory. When I was small, me cousin George (who was a year or two younger) was this towheaded, cute-as-a-button little man. To look at him, you'd almost think you could hear a chorus of angels singing, he was that adorable. The only thing was that George, or Georgie as we called him, was anything but angelic. He was a demon in disguise. Tell him he's a cutie, and he'll kick you in the shins. Tell him he has the best smile, and he'll spit at you. Yes, Cousin George was quite the kiddo.
At the ripe old age of ten, he decided life on the rails was probably more his style and so while at play with a few neighbour boys, he dropped everything and started walking down the railroad line until he found a train that was standing still, hopped in and took a free ride five towns down the line. As you can imagine, once it was discerned that Cousin George was missing, everyone was in a state of panic, looking for him before one of his fellows gave up reluctantly, admitting that Georgie had left to live the life of a hobo. Oh my, his mother near swooning, his father saying something about a switch being too good to use "on that lad!" and me standing there with me sissy thinking that Georgie never did that did he? Well, of course, he did it was Georgie after all.
He was found by the constables, he was. He was given a good talking to, I heard, but through it all Georgie sat in the constabulary, arms crossed against his chest, legs swinging back and forth with a mischievous (or, as I think was more the case, demonic) smile on his cutie pie face. It wasn't until a few years later that Cousin Georgie was sent to a military-style school to learn discipline and self-control. I don't know if that worked; I lost track of George in me teenage years. But whenever a small child in me immediate family starts acting badly, we wonder if the George gene is in them. In me son's case, I be pretty convinced it is. That same wicked grin comes over his features; his eyes have a strange, evil light that shines through slits. Knowing he knows perfectly well not to do something, he does it anyway and then laughs. Yup, he does.
BACK TO THE WEDDING
So back to the elevator with all the pretty ladies and the bride all decked out for the nuptials, there, in front was me lad, dressed in his little grey double-breasted suit with a superhero cape, his face a huge sunny smile of wickedness, as he stood legs apart. One hand pointing down the elevator shaft. The little demon had been acting like a maggot as he had no nap, and to distract him, Tonya had given him our house and car keys. Well, perfect set-up -- keys, hole and Georgie. He threw them down the shaft with glee, and no one could stop them. Tonya said it was like slow motion, she watched them fall, and she couldn't grab them before they left sight, three stories up to the bottom of the shaft.
These were the keys we needed to get into our home once we returned, but more importantly, these were the keys to our car, which we needed to drive to the venue, 15 minutes away. Tonya was in charge of bringing three young boys down the aisle, so she wasn't part of the bridesmaids, so we were driving with the wee one to the venue. While the bride and her retinue went to the limousine, we used our phone flashlights to illuminate the shaft, trying to see if we could find the keys. We could, they were down in the box below the elevator. People were waiting to go up while we did this, so we had quite the crowd around us offering all kinds of useless suggestions.
The desk was no help; it was like, 'So what?' I asked them if they had a key to the box below; they said no. The elevator company had it, and, being a weekend, we'd have to wait until Monday. Oh no, the wife went ballistic, and they got quite the finger-shaking, head-shaking, and sharp-tongued Tonya, who is more than capable of that when upset. The desk sent for someone to come help us. This turned out to be an older woman in a janitorial uniform who told us basically that there was nothing she could do.
GREAT! Meanwhile, the limo we were supposed to follow had left! The wee one was screaming like a girl at the top of his lungs, knowing he had done wrong, but as he always does when he knows he's been bad, he stood there and screeched until blood dripped from me ears. I tell ya!
Tonya got into a panic -- keys gone, no way to go to the venue, limo gone, no directions.
The groomsmen arrived after a while, and I informed one of them about what had happened, not wanting to upset the groom on his special day. He lent me his car to get to the venue, which was very kind; it had a car seat, so we were legally allowed to go. Meanwhile, their limo pulled up, and the desk had the elevator people on the phone, as they wanted Tonya to talk to them because the nearest worker was in Trenton and had been at a weekend party, where he had become too drunk to drive. The only other one was up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania (for all intents and purposes, a million miles away). And he didn't want to drive all that way to the Jersey shore.
The desk clerk told me that if he did manage to get to the hotel, it wouldn't be until very late, and there was a charge of $450 to retrieve the keys. Oi! They also said they couldn't book us a room for the night, as they had none; all hotels were fully booked at this time of year. GREAT, we were stranded. Everyone had booked rooms for the night, knowing ahead of time they'd be drinking. We didn't, because I had the bright idea that we could leave early enough to drive home without being tired. Yeah, bright idea -- me!
Tonya finally got the elevator guy to agree to head out, but it was going to take him a while to arrive. As we headed out, I had no clue what the car I was driving was or where it was parked. This set Tonya into a state of hyper annoyance, now directed at me! I used the panic button to locate the car, got "Georgie" into the car seat, and took off for the light and the direction I had seen the limo turn.
"Call one of your brothers and get directions," I told Tonya.
The phone reception was sketchy. We had a few calls and a few wrong turns, but we finally got there. Tonya was red in the face, totally humiliated, the young one, acting like nothing happened, and I was just trying to keep the wife from falling apart.
"I'm not sure this guy is even coming," she moaned.
"Let's get through the ceremony, and then we'll discuss it," I told her.
"How can I? I just want this day over!" She whined.
If you think it got any better, it didn't.
THE WEDDING CEREMONY:
I left Tonya to take me place in the front row. The procession started with the groom, best man, and groomsmen all front and centre to where their friend (a justice of the peace) was waiting under a white rose arbour. The ocean was right up to the window of the room, seagulls in flight, a sunny, beautiful day outside.
Music cued, and down the aisle came all twenty-three bridesmaids (I'm sure it wasn't that number, but it seemed like a huge wedding party). I neglected to tell you that there was no maid of honour; it was a man of honour. The bride was close to her brother, and he was her choice, so it was quite different. Then the wife with three wee laddies all under the age of two. She carried the one-year-old; the other two (my lad included) were at her side. But having no hands available, they were LOOSE.
They all sported capes with their first initial on the back, resembling little superheroes, which was the theme of the wedding. The groom had proposed to his bride with a Darth Vader ring, as the engagement ring was still being sized, and he wanted to propose while he had the nerve; thus, the superhero theme. I should mention the groom and groomsmen's roses in their lapels were attached to each with a different Star Wars action figure.
Anyway, the two kiddos, realising they were free from their designated adult, took off down the aisle in all directions. Poor Tonya! She was nearly tripping over her gown, looking to the right, then the left, then behind her, and she was flummoxed about what to do. The one loose laddie had his arms out in front of him like Superman and made it look like he was flying (cute, actually), and mine was stopping at each aisle seat, looking at the occupant with a wicked smile on his face, pointing and saying, "WHO DAT?" I was thinking I'd be going after him and knowing him as I do, having to drag a screeching little man to my seat. But at the last minute, he walked up to me and I was able to gather him in me lap to keep him still. Superman, meanwhile, was caught by his Gran on the other side of the aisle, so we were good... for the moment.
Tonya handed off the one-year-old to his mam and took her place with me, the kiddos, Mam and her mam and da. Her brothers, sisters, and their children and significant others were behind us. We were in the front row because Tonya had a reading yet to get through.
The bride's music cued us all to stand, and the most wonderful thing happened: Darth Vader's March was played. We all got a well-needed laugh, and I was almost envisioning the bride dressed in a Darth Vader helmet and a black dress coming down the aisle, but she didn't go that far. The music seamlessly transitioned into Vivaldi's Four Seasons, and there she was, looking stunning.
Tonya's reading went well, but in the middle of it, our wee Georgie wanted to join her. I caught him, and he proceeded to lie on the floor. I was bracing meself for him to start screaming and kicking, but instead, he was lying there pointing at the groomsmen above him and asking, "Who dat?" I tell ya!
The bride and groom had their kiss, and as they did, two hang gliders came drifting past the windows! It was a perfect end to the superhero theme.
THE PHOTO SESSION
I mistakenly thought we were good. The crisis near over, but not quite. Tonya phoned the hotel as we went to the beach for photos. Nothing was different, keys were still in the shaft, and the elevator worker was still in Pennsy. She lost the rhinestone ornament on her silver shoes in the sand, so she had one glittery shoe and one not in all the pictures. We couldn't find the thing. Then "Georgie" had had enough of the cape and ripped it off before his photo was taken. There was a quick fix by one of the bridesmaids, so the bride didn't know. We got through THAT, and he decided to take off his boots so he could walk in the sand. He screamed bloody murder when we tried to get the boots back on, which caused a lot of onlookers to stop to see how we were killing the kid. I tell ya, he is in all HIS pictures as the barefoot one.
RECEPTION
We went up to the reception and since young "Georgie" didn't want any more elevators (a view shared by his mam), we took the four flights of stairs, where at the top, Mam thought she was having a heart attack. No chairs at the top, but way across the room. I thought I was going to have to carry her, and here we'd be making another scene. I tell ya! Somehow, I managed to get her across the room while Georgie took off to point at a maintenance man who was latching a window, as Tonya found Mam's table. At the top of his wee lungs, he was shouting, "WHO DAT?" We seated Mam quickly, got her some water, and tried to make it so no one knew that, at her request, she was unwell. Getting her situated, Tonya went into the bridal suite provided for the wedding party and ripped the hotel with our keys, a new one as I ran after the wayward youngest, the other two with their uncle safe and sound.
Tonya rang up the elevator guy, and I guess the tears and whining, along with the threats and harassment, finally got him off his behind and on his way. I have no clue why the hotel had no key, but I wondered what else they'd find in that shaft box.
Meanwhile, I had caught up with the wee one, and he was kicking and struggling. I took him to the table, awaiting the babysitter to come and fetch him.
Each table had a name, and at each place setting, a rolled scroll contained a humorous story about either the bride or the groom that led to the naming of the table. Ours was named Lobster Bisque, and the story was about the groom who went out into knee-deep water in the ocean to see if he could see a shark. He spent most of the noon hour there and, for his trouble, ended up with sun poisoning. I was glad I wasn't the only idiot who did stuff like that.
Dinner mainly went without incident, except that me wife was missing most of it, locked up in the bridal suite on the phone with either the elevator operator or the hotel staff. She came back at one point to inform me we were stuck at the hotel until probably 3 a.m. This meant that as soon as the special dances were out of the way and the cake was cut, we'd be subject to our youngest having tantrums from being overly tired and not having had his afternoon nap. I could see us in a hotel lobby with THAT going on. She knew it too and was very near tears, actually, she was in tears. Just the thought of that was worse than being stuck in an elevator shaft without a key!
When it was time for me to go get said child who was downstairs and bring him up, he would not enter the elevator. I think he never will again. We had to watch couples leaving, kids going, and us staying with three underage kiddos, one a typhoon all on his own, and the other two tired and starting the "When are we leaving?" routine. Oh yeah, fun.
I would say that relatives and people we didn't know occupied us here and there, but the thought of waiting in a lobby later hung heavily over us. Then we realised we had no way back to the hotel. Hell, we couldn't remember where the hotel was. Oi, oi, oi!
I was able to make arrangements with the only sober male in the reception, a teetotaler, who was very nice and drove us back to the hotel. But that was after the raunch started. I have never been able to stay at a wedding until its conclusion because, usually, if the bride and groom leave, then everyone else does in good time. Still, if they stay and are party animals like these two, well, a whole new atmosphere settles in, and a certain crowd stays for the fun.
The bride was literally running shoeless with her skirts hiked up around her knees to a photo booth where you could put on silly hats and boas and strike a pose. If she saw someone or some pose she liked, she sprinted across the room, held an empty picture frame up with her face in it and joined the picture. I tell ya! A couple of times, I thought I'd be laid out on the floor from the near miss of sprinting back to the dance floor.
The music switched up, too, to that hard, primal beat that tipsy people find sexy. Here's a sample.
This was taken with a cell phone, and the darkness and grainy images don't do it justice. It is hard to see the gyrations going on up on the dance floor, but they were having a grand old time of it. And me older two were getting interested, so TIME TO LEAVE!
The sober fella drove us over to the hotel. We had the groom's room key, so we were told to take the children there to sleep along with me Mam, while Tonya and I sat in the lobby awaiting the elevator guy. It was an hour later that he showed up and turned out to be a rather good Joe. He did not charge us the $450 as we had been threatened, which we thought he might after such a long drive. He really liked Tonya, and it was obvious that if she were single, she'd have herself an instant date. Geez!
DRIVE HOME
So, gathering granny and the kiddos, we left for the long ride home. In hindsight, we would have stayed, but it was my bright idea that things would go well; no keys would have been chucked down a hole, the time would have been way earlier, and we would have left before darkness set in. So at 6 a.m. I rolled into the abode with a car full of sleeping people, wishing to do nothing but collapse and wake up to find it was all a dream. Nope, it wasn't a dream.
Gabe
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R. Linda:
Bachelor party - Done! Rehearsal dinner - DONE! Wedding - DONE! Gabe--quite a bit lighter in the pockets - DONE! Dragon in New Jersey and Gabe in New Hampshire - DONE, DONE, DONE, DONE, DONE! Life resumes - DONE!
We came home last night to very chilly weather compared to what we had in Jersey. It feels like Fall, and the dog is acting like we were gone for months. The cats (yes, we now have two) didn't notice our absence, and if they did, they certainly don't care we are home. Anyway, all kiddos and old woman accounted for. The wife is finally basking in an after-wedding glow and recaps it all like a sports announcer. She could do a better job than I, but then she'd remember a certain set of keys, and the story would end abruptly. And it'd be all my fault because I decided we should drive instead of fly. So, here goes.
THE GETTING THERE:
We decided it might be good to let Mam fly down with Dragon and save us the howling baby syndrome on the plane. Our two older kiddos would be fine on a plane, but the youngest . . . not so much. We could envision the plane being turned around with the news media having a field day, or worse, the crew putting parachutes on us and dropping us out. The wee one cannot sit still, and he's started the terrible twos, along with a high-pitched screaming like a girl if he doesn't get what he wants. Yup, safer for our sanity to drive. This way, if he pitched a fit, we could pull over and deal with it.
THE BACHELOR PARTY
As with all me adventures, this one was not without its pitfalls or pratfalls, as the case is much more likely to be when it comes to yours truly, so starting with the bachelor party. There were about 20 of us to start off, but by the time we arrived at the brewery (yes, that's where we went), there were about 40 of us, and the number continued to grow. We were each given an unflattering t-shirt with the groom's face on it, looking glum. The photo used, he had no clue where it came from, but there it was staring him in the face all night, everywhere. Can you imagine walking into places with all your friends wearing your face on their shirts? Awesome! LOL
We visited a microbrewery and were given samples (hefty ones) and educated on the art of beer brewing. We even saw that the brewery had extended into its own mini-vodka distillery, and yes, we got a taste of each strange brew, so we were well on our way to inebriation. When done with the hour tour, we got into a limo (because who could drive?) and off to about thirty pubs. It was more than that, but after the first ten, you lose count. Each pub had FOOD, so at least we weren't all drifting through the alcohol haze on the equivalent of petrol in our guts.
The jokes and practical ones grew raunchier as the night progressed, and we ended up at a club with throbbing bass and percussion permeating the entire block. Lots of hoots and drinking, drinking and dancing, joking and drinking, and general drinking mayhem. The groom got the usual call (that all grooms do) that comes in the wee hours from his bride-to-be, "Where are you? My bridal party was over at eleven, it's 2:30 in the morning. I'm all alone, when are you coming home?" and then, "Do I hear women laughing? What's going on, where ARE YOU?"
Shortly after that, with a lot of man-giggling (not pretty) by those listening to the bride on speakerphone (which she didn't know she was on), we knew enough to end the ribald merriment and break up the good time, of which very few of us could remember the next day. The only thing that perplexed each one was one hell of a slamming hangover. Where did that come from, I wonder?
THE REHEARSAL DINNER
With a few hours to recover, the next night we were off to rehearsal dinner. The restaurant was an Italian establishment, as I have found they usually are for rehearsal dinners. Instead of having designated tables (which had the Dragon Lady all a-fluster), we were told to sit where we wanted. This, as you can imagine, established chaos right away. Part of the family was at one end of the room and shouting at the other from what seemed like miles away. It was not only family and wedding party, but a few close friends and extended family, making for quite a loud crowd. Hey, but it's Jersey they talk or tawk loudly.
We were in a backroom, but the bar was just outside the door, so all that elegant wine being served was soon interspersed with beer and mixed drinks. The duty of the groom in these situations is to drink himself into courage for the next day to brace himself to take that walk down the aisle and say those "I do's." This is at least what all his groomsmen told him, so they had him pretty much in his cups before the main entree arrived. The bride didn't seem to notice because "her people," as she called her bridal party, were all about her. Poor thing, wait until she sees those photos of her and her beloved, her looking all smiles, perky and excited and him, all bloodshot eyes, drunken demeanour and tongue lolling out as he fought to stay conscious.
The dinner went without a hitch somehow, and that left the wedding the next day. All was going too smoothly not to have a spanner thrown in there somewhere, and it was coming!
THE WEDDING
The wedding day was bright and beautiful; the sea air was refreshing, and everyone was jovial. However, the hectic getting-ready process soon set in, and it remained that way until the ceremony itself. We went to the hotel where the bridal party had suites on both sides of the building to keep the couple from seeing each other on their big day. I had dropped Tonya and me youngest off at the bride's side, and everything there was happy, happy, giggles, whispers, and general excitement. The other two kiddos were with me Mam, and not part of the wedding, but the wee man was a ring bearer for the ceremony. I noticed the ladies had a table with cheese, crackers, wine, pastries, etc., and no one was partaking because "I need to fit into my dress" was the general excuse. I was invited to have a glass of wine before I left; they gave me a napkin of cheeses and assorted crackers, and I was happy to be on me way.
On the other side of the building, the groomsmen were in quiet conversations nursing yet again, hangovers and generally, it felt subdued over there. The occasional boisterous buddy would turn up to wish them well, to a chorus of hushing, heads hurt. I tell ya! Men right? LOL. I was good, I had me wine, which they were all asking me why I got special favours from the bride and not them. I told them I was better looking than all of them, and that was why, and besides, she liked me best.
There were crisps of sorts, dips, and beer in our section, so it wasn't like we had nothing to eat. It was the bride and groom's choice of complimentary munchies they wanted before the ceremony. By the time we had to go to the venue, most of those munchies on our side (at least) were reduced to crumbs.
Before we left, I was asked to deliver a message to the bridesmaids (since I was reminded they liked me best), and I met the bridal party as they came down the elevator. As soon as the doors opened, I knew some catastrophe had struck. The faces were all concerned, and me wife's most of all!
SIDE STORY
Before I tell you what happened, let me remind you that our youngest has an alter-ego named Georgie. I'm not sure if I've ever told you the story of Georgie, but if I have, I'll just refresh your memory. When I was small, me cousin George (who was a year or two younger) was this towheaded, cute-as-a-button little man. To look at him, you'd almost think you could hear a chorus of angels singing, he was that adorable. The only thing was that George, or Georgie as we called him, was anything but angelic. He was a demon in disguise. Tell him he's a cutie, and he'll kick you in the shins. Tell him he has the best smile, and he'll spit at you. Yes, Cousin George was quite the kiddo.
At the ripe old age of ten, he decided life on the rails was probably more his style and so while at play with a few neighbour boys, he dropped everything and started walking down the railroad line until he found a train that was standing still, hopped in and took a free ride five towns down the line. As you can imagine, once it was discerned that Cousin George was missing, everyone was in a state of panic, looking for him before one of his fellows gave up reluctantly, admitting that Georgie had left to live the life of a hobo. Oh my, his mother near swooning, his father saying something about a switch being too good to use "on that lad!" and me standing there with me sissy thinking that Georgie never did that did he? Well, of course, he did it was Georgie after all.
He was found by the constables, he was. He was given a good talking to, I heard, but through it all Georgie sat in the constabulary, arms crossed against his chest, legs swinging back and forth with a mischievous (or, as I think was more the case, demonic) smile on his cutie pie face. It wasn't until a few years later that Cousin Georgie was sent to a military-style school to learn discipline and self-control. I don't know if that worked; I lost track of George in me teenage years. But whenever a small child in me immediate family starts acting badly, we wonder if the George gene is in them. In me son's case, I be pretty convinced it is. That same wicked grin comes over his features; his eyes have a strange, evil light that shines through slits. Knowing he knows perfectly well not to do something, he does it anyway and then laughs. Yup, he does.
BACK TO THE WEDDING
So back to the elevator with all the pretty ladies and the bride all decked out for the nuptials, there, in front was me lad, dressed in his little grey double-breasted suit with a superhero cape, his face a huge sunny smile of wickedness, as he stood legs apart. One hand pointing down the elevator shaft. The little demon had been acting like a maggot as he had no nap, and to distract him, Tonya had given him our house and car keys. Well, perfect set-up -- keys, hole and Georgie. He threw them down the shaft with glee, and no one could stop them. Tonya said it was like slow motion, she watched them fall, and she couldn't grab them before they left sight, three stories up to the bottom of the shaft.
These were the keys we needed to get into our home once we returned, but more importantly, these were the keys to our car, which we needed to drive to the venue, 15 minutes away. Tonya was in charge of bringing three young boys down the aisle, so she wasn't part of the bridesmaids, so we were driving with the wee one to the venue. While the bride and her retinue went to the limousine, we used our phone flashlights to illuminate the shaft, trying to see if we could find the keys. We could, they were down in the box below the elevator. People were waiting to go up while we did this, so we had quite the crowd around us offering all kinds of useless suggestions.
The desk was no help; it was like, 'So what?' I asked them if they had a key to the box below; they said no. The elevator company had it, and, being a weekend, we'd have to wait until Monday. Oh no, the wife went ballistic, and they got quite the finger-shaking, head-shaking, and sharp-tongued Tonya, who is more than capable of that when upset. The desk sent for someone to come help us. This turned out to be an older woman in a janitorial uniform who told us basically that there was nothing she could do.
GREAT! Meanwhile, the limo we were supposed to follow had left! The wee one was screaming like a girl at the top of his lungs, knowing he had done wrong, but as he always does when he knows he's been bad, he stood there and screeched until blood dripped from me ears. I tell ya!
Tonya got into a panic -- keys gone, no way to go to the venue, limo gone, no directions.
The groomsmen arrived after a while, and I informed one of them about what had happened, not wanting to upset the groom on his special day. He lent me his car to get to the venue, which was very kind; it had a car seat, so we were legally allowed to go. Meanwhile, their limo pulled up, and the desk had the elevator people on the phone, as they wanted Tonya to talk to them because the nearest worker was in Trenton and had been at a weekend party, where he had become too drunk to drive. The only other one was up in Lancaster, Pennsylvania (for all intents and purposes, a million miles away). And he didn't want to drive all that way to the Jersey shore.
The desk clerk told me that if he did manage to get to the hotel, it wouldn't be until very late, and there was a charge of $450 to retrieve the keys. Oi! They also said they couldn't book us a room for the night, as they had none; all hotels were fully booked at this time of year. GREAT, we were stranded. Everyone had booked rooms for the night, knowing ahead of time they'd be drinking. We didn't, because I had the bright idea that we could leave early enough to drive home without being tired. Yeah, bright idea -- me!
Tonya finally got the elevator guy to agree to head out, but it was going to take him a while to arrive. As we headed out, I had no clue what the car I was driving was or where it was parked. This set Tonya into a state of hyper annoyance, now directed at me! I used the panic button to locate the car, got "Georgie" into the car seat, and took off for the light and the direction I had seen the limo turn.
"Call one of your brothers and get directions," I told Tonya.
The phone reception was sketchy. We had a few calls and a few wrong turns, but we finally got there. Tonya was red in the face, totally humiliated, the young one, acting like nothing happened, and I was just trying to keep the wife from falling apart.
"I'm not sure this guy is even coming," she moaned.
"Let's get through the ceremony, and then we'll discuss it," I told her.
"How can I? I just want this day over!" She whined.
If you think it got any better, it didn't.
THE WEDDING CEREMONY:
I left Tonya to take me place in the front row. The procession started with the groom, best man, and groomsmen all front and centre to where their friend (a justice of the peace) was waiting under a white rose arbour. The ocean was right up to the window of the room, seagulls in flight, a sunny, beautiful day outside.
Music cued, and down the aisle came all twenty-three bridesmaids (I'm sure it wasn't that number, but it seemed like a huge wedding party). I neglected to tell you that there was no maid of honour; it was a man of honour. The bride was close to her brother, and he was her choice, so it was quite different. Then the wife with three wee laddies all under the age of two. She carried the one-year-old; the other two (my lad included) were at her side. But having no hands available, they were LOOSE.
They all sported capes with their first initial on the back, resembling little superheroes, which was the theme of the wedding. The groom had proposed to his bride with a Darth Vader ring, as the engagement ring was still being sized, and he wanted to propose while he had the nerve; thus, the superhero theme. I should mention the groom and groomsmen's roses in their lapels were attached to each with a different Star Wars action figure.
Anyway, the two kiddos, realising they were free from their designated adult, took off down the aisle in all directions. Poor Tonya! She was nearly tripping over her gown, looking to the right, then the left, then behind her, and she was flummoxed about what to do. The one loose laddie had his arms out in front of him like Superman and made it look like he was flying (cute, actually), and mine was stopping at each aisle seat, looking at the occupant with a wicked smile on his face, pointing and saying, "WHO DAT?" I was thinking I'd be going after him and knowing him as I do, having to drag a screeching little man to my seat. But at the last minute, he walked up to me and I was able to gather him in me lap to keep him still. Superman, meanwhile, was caught by his Gran on the other side of the aisle, so we were good... for the moment.
Tonya handed off the one-year-old to his mam and took her place with me, the kiddos, Mam and her mam and da. Her brothers, sisters, and their children and significant others were behind us. We were in the front row because Tonya had a reading yet to get through.
The bride's music cued us all to stand, and the most wonderful thing happened: Darth Vader's March was played. We all got a well-needed laugh, and I was almost envisioning the bride dressed in a Darth Vader helmet and a black dress coming down the aisle, but she didn't go that far. The music seamlessly transitioned into Vivaldi's Four Seasons, and there she was, looking stunning.
Tonya's reading went well, but in the middle of it, our wee Georgie wanted to join her. I caught him, and he proceeded to lie on the floor. I was bracing meself for him to start screaming and kicking, but instead, he was lying there pointing at the groomsmen above him and asking, "Who dat?" I tell ya!
The bride and groom had their kiss, and as they did, two hang gliders came drifting past the windows! It was a perfect end to the superhero theme.
THE PHOTO SESSION
I mistakenly thought we were good. The crisis near over, but not quite. Tonya phoned the hotel as we went to the beach for photos. Nothing was different, keys were still in the shaft, and the elevator worker was still in Pennsy. She lost the rhinestone ornament on her silver shoes in the sand, so she had one glittery shoe and one not in all the pictures. We couldn't find the thing. Then "Georgie" had had enough of the cape and ripped it off before his photo was taken. There was a quick fix by one of the bridesmaids, so the bride didn't know. We got through THAT, and he decided to take off his boots so he could walk in the sand. He screamed bloody murder when we tried to get the boots back on, which caused a lot of onlookers to stop to see how we were killing the kid. I tell ya, he is in all HIS pictures as the barefoot one.
RECEPTION
We went up to the reception and since young "Georgie" didn't want any more elevators (a view shared by his mam), we took the four flights of stairs, where at the top, Mam thought she was having a heart attack. No chairs at the top, but way across the room. I thought I was going to have to carry her, and here we'd be making another scene. I tell ya! Somehow, I managed to get her across the room while Georgie took off to point at a maintenance man who was latching a window, as Tonya found Mam's table. At the top of his wee lungs, he was shouting, "WHO DAT?" We seated Mam quickly, got her some water, and tried to make it so no one knew that, at her request, she was unwell. Getting her situated, Tonya went into the bridal suite provided for the wedding party and ripped the hotel with our keys, a new one as I ran after the wayward youngest, the other two with their uncle safe and sound.
Tonya rang up the elevator guy, and I guess the tears and whining, along with the threats and harassment, finally got him off his behind and on his way. I have no clue why the hotel had no key, but I wondered what else they'd find in that shaft box.
Meanwhile, I had caught up with the wee one, and he was kicking and struggling. I took him to the table, awaiting the babysitter to come and fetch him.
Each table had a name, and at each place setting, a rolled scroll contained a humorous story about either the bride or the groom that led to the naming of the table. Ours was named Lobster Bisque, and the story was about the groom who went out into knee-deep water in the ocean to see if he could see a shark. He spent most of the noon hour there and, for his trouble, ended up with sun poisoning. I was glad I wasn't the only idiot who did stuff like that.
Dinner mainly went without incident, except that me wife was missing most of it, locked up in the bridal suite on the phone with either the elevator operator or the hotel staff. She came back at one point to inform me we were stuck at the hotel until probably 3 a.m. This meant that as soon as the special dances were out of the way and the cake was cut, we'd be subject to our youngest having tantrums from being overly tired and not having had his afternoon nap. I could see us in a hotel lobby with THAT going on. She knew it too and was very near tears, actually, she was in tears. Just the thought of that was worse than being stuck in an elevator shaft without a key!
When it was time for me to go get said child who was downstairs and bring him up, he would not enter the elevator. I think he never will again. We had to watch couples leaving, kids going, and us staying with three underage kiddos, one a typhoon all on his own, and the other two tired and starting the "When are we leaving?" routine. Oh yeah, fun.
I would say that relatives and people we didn't know occupied us here and there, but the thought of waiting in a lobby later hung heavily over us. Then we realised we had no way back to the hotel. Hell, we couldn't remember where the hotel was. Oi, oi, oi!
I was able to make arrangements with the only sober male in the reception, a teetotaler, who was very nice and drove us back to the hotel. But that was after the raunch started. I have never been able to stay at a wedding until its conclusion because, usually, if the bride and groom leave, then everyone else does in good time. Still, if they stay and are party animals like these two, well, a whole new atmosphere settles in, and a certain crowd stays for the fun.
The bride was literally running shoeless with her skirts hiked up around her knees to a photo booth where you could put on silly hats and boas and strike a pose. If she saw someone or some pose she liked, she sprinted across the room, held an empty picture frame up with her face in it and joined the picture. I tell ya! A couple of times, I thought I'd be laid out on the floor from the near miss of sprinting back to the dance floor.
The music switched up, too, to that hard, primal beat that tipsy people find sexy. Here's a sample.
This was taken with a cell phone, and the darkness and grainy images don't do it justice. It is hard to see the gyrations going on up on the dance floor, but they were having a grand old time of it. And me older two were getting interested, so TIME TO LEAVE!
The sober fella drove us over to the hotel. We had the groom's room key, so we were told to take the children there to sleep along with me Mam, while Tonya and I sat in the lobby awaiting the elevator guy. It was an hour later that he showed up and turned out to be a rather good Joe. He did not charge us the $450 as we had been threatened, which we thought he might after such a long drive. He really liked Tonya, and it was obvious that if she were single, she'd have herself an instant date. Geez!
DRIVE HOME
So, gathering granny and the kiddos, we left for the long ride home. In hindsight, we would have stayed, but it was my bright idea that things would go well; no keys would have been chucked down a hole, the time would have been way earlier, and we would have left before darkness set in. So at 6 a.m. I rolled into the abode with a car full of sleeping people, wishing to do nothing but collapse and wake up to find it was all a dream. Nope, it wasn't a dream.
Gabe
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