Friday, May 23, 2008

So, getting to know My Love was an interesting experience. There was, of course, the initial gettin' to know ya / lying offa my-er- enhancing my good qualities while buri- uh... minimizing the lesser ones.

There's good and bad to just about everybody, but I never figgured that she'd have some of that too.

One of the things that landed quite solidly in the gray area was her drinking ability.

See, if a girl could drink me under the table (then, not now- heck now, I'm a friggin' lightweight), it would beg the question of how much of a party girl she was. Having a personal party girl can be great - if that's what you're looking for, but sharing her with all yer buddies, the neighbors, and pretty much anything with a pee-pee can be... Not Good.

Of course, my life being what it was, My Love had about a negative drinking ability. Good right?


Now, this wasn't an all out terrible thing, but when you find out about one's lack of alcoholic tolerance in a memorable way, well, it makes for an interesting blog story.

After a little while of dating, and her eventually making up her mind that I was Mr., she set into her method of testing me out. Besides seeing how I interacted with her family n' friends (and vice/versa), holding babies, and whatnot, she invited me to a wedding.

I don't recall who's wedding it was for... it wasn't for a family member, I'm pretty sure, it was probably for a friend or co-worker of hers. It was the standard stuff with a whole bunch of folks I didn't know, long service, weepy chicks, tons of family, some more friends of hers who's name I would probably be tested on later etc.

One of the more memorable things about the reception afterwards was the band.

They suuuuucked.

Now, I'll give 'em credit for showing up and actually going out on stage, of course. Until you've actually performed in front of a crowd of people, paying or no, there's no true understanding of stage fright.

But when it comes to fright, I was afraid of the noise they were making.

Heck, I wanted my money back, and I didn't really pay for anything.

Seeking safe territory, I relied on my Marine training and escaped and evaded my way over to the bar, in the next room. Ah, safety. The wedding party had arranged for free champagne, but drinks were not taken care of. That's why there's the saying, 'always be prepared', I guess. Well fortified with the best drinks that they had there, I returned to my chair - draggin' my feet, but I couldn't leave a lovely behind - er, I mean I could leave my Love, behind. Heh... kind of bad form, you know (damn, not her form, my... *sigh*).

In addition, in an attempt to at least fake the par- er, to be a gentleman, I brought her another glass of champagne. This would make her, hold on, lemme count this up here, second glass.

That horrid band was still making that noise that passed for music. When were the friggin' toasts gonna be made, anyways?

So we ate the food, drank our drink, listened to the noise, made some small talk, suffered through the occasion (me), and eagerly ate up every moment for future plans (her). (Parenthesis for those who might need some indication that weddings are not... traditionally *ha!* my favorite of things.)

The band would mercifully stop every once in awhile, between songs, they claimed. I just thought that they needed a moment to staunch the blood flow from their ears. The audience would dutifully clap between most of the songs, probably for the brief respite to their ears, and to hopefully look around for that damned best man, so he could get this show on the road, or something.

It was during one of those song-endings / applause, actually right in between the two, the split second of silence when everybody realized that they still maintained some semblance of hearing, that Lovely blurted/shrieked out, loud enough for the priest back in the church 15 miles away to hear,

"I... LIKE CAKE!!!"

Wow, howdy.

Ever had a reception hall fulla folks you don't know crank their necks around to stare at you and your date?

Well, I have.

Apparently determined to demonstrate her near-perfect timing, she would proclaim in the pin-drop silence of between songs, breath-pauses during speeches, and general lulls during conversations,


Enter room full of evil-eyes, stage left.

And my personal favorite of the night,

"I'M DRRRRrrrrUNK!!!"

No shi- er- kidding, sweetheart.

That's when I learned that the typical wedding-rental folding chair and table, while not offering much in the way of cover (not that it was needed... that night), actually can give something in the way of concealment, should the Marine in question kinda hunker down, real low-like...


Snigglefrits said...

Hope she doesn't read your blog or I'm afraid you're going to be needing a bigger doghouse. :D

Ray said...

Taking a date to a wedding is like taking gasoline to a fire. No way in hell would i do that, again.

kvegas911 said...

DELIS-SHUS CAKE!! Not good. LOL! Poor girl!

Murphy said...

snigglefrits: Holy crap, I can have a dog house out here?

ray: Hmm, dilemma; 1) take a gal to a wedding, or b) take her shopping to the mall all day. I'd chose option .40 to the gut... much more pleasurable.

kvegas911: Yeah, she's a cheap date... when it came to drinking. When it came to jewelry, dinners, and clothes (oh my!) well, that was something else.

Women. Gotta love 'em, cause seriously, who else'll put up with up?