A Wedding-esk Blog
I love Starbucks; there’s just so many interesting people all sitting within close proximity to each other. Alright, at times I hate it because of that “close proximity” fact. Sometimes I just need my space to spread all of my stuff across the 6-person table. Not today though! Today is different, and I’m not sure why.
I’m in Starbucks right now actually, so it’s almost like you’re getting an old live news feed of what’s going on. When I initially arrived here, the place was packed primarily with teenage girls joyously running around with green-colored drinks of some sort. I was fortunate to get a 4-person table by the door all to myself. After about 20 minutes, the newly-licensed female gremlins drove away and the place emptied up a lot. However, this family came in (after the rush) and decided to sit at the table to my left. Why they would pick the table immediately to my left when they have the whole store to sit in, including the couch, escapes me. I would’ve sat on the couch myself if I didn’t have a paper and this blog to write. Maybe they wanted to sit next to me because I smell excellent, or perhaps they just liked the cut of my jib. Either way, I was stuck with them right next to me.
There was a middle-aged guy, Old Man Hank. His wife, Past Her Prime Pat. Their daughter, Too Young For Marriage Molly. And her fiancee, Fiancee Dan. No, those weren’t their actual names; I made them up, and I giggled while I did. I’m assuming Molly was the daughter, going by how Dan was quiet, didn’t talk much, mainly stared into the bottomless pit of his tall-sized coffee and by how she carried most of the conversation. Oh, and her calling them “mom” and “dad” was a good indicator that she was the daughter, too. Molly couldn’t have been much over 21, she didn’t look older than 18 though. And the same was for Dan. He was a short guy, too. All of 5’3″ and 150lbs soaking wet.
They were talking to Hank and Pat about their future wedding plans or something. Their biggest conundrum they had come to about the wedding was how much alcohol to buy. Molly couldn’t decided if she wanted to serve beer or wine. Personally, I would have voted for Dr. Pepper and red Hawaiian Punch, but I’m easy to get along with that way. Fortunately, Momma Pat convinced her daughter to change her tasteless ways with bribery. She said something like, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. You just worry about the clothes I’m going to buy you at Penny’s later today. Oh, and Dan, I heard Express is having a sale. But you probably can’t afford it.” Dan perked up, grinned awkwardly, and then resumed staring into his coffee. I don’t think he realized that his cup had a lid on it.
Overbearing Pat and Molly talked more about clothes and whatnot, and then Molly dropped another verbal bomb that took her parents by surprise. She said, “Oh, so… I don’t have a job yet.” Hank and Pat both gasped. And then as Hank was getting ready to speak, Pat cut him off with a well placed “shhh!” Pat continued to say, “don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. We’ll just support all of your finances. We need to hurry and get to Penny’s.” After the shhh-ing Hank started to act like Dan, he stared into his coffee as well. And like his possible soon-to-be son-in-law, he also didn’t realize that his had a lid on it.
They talked for a few more minutes and then, at Pat’s command, they all got up and left. But not before Pat gave her daughter a wad of cash. Pat and Molly walked out with their arms linked, and Dan and Hank followed behind with their heads down like cattle being led to slaughter.
Dan and Molly, congrats on the nuptials and I’m glad your mother is finally getting the wedding of her dreams.
I know what you’re thinking, “Adam! How can you say that? You’re most likely wrong with your snap judgments and assumptions. You don’t even know them!”
I don’t know them, I embellished some, but I’m usually right. I’m especially right in this case because that’s how my fictional-but-based-on-real-life-events blog story ends.
And I said all of that to say this: I love weddings. They’re just so happy!
Actually, my brother, Trainer Jarrod is getting married in a few months. He made me his Best Man. Ok, technically I’m Co-Best Man with the other brother, Tiny Alec. But whatever, we all know he only said that so he wouldn’t break Tiny Alec’s tiny heart. I’m so qualified for this job; all I have to do is throw a bachelor party, walk some chick up and down the aisle at a ridiculously slow pace, make a funny-yet-tear-jerking speech, do a bad dance move or two, and look adorable in a suit/tux. I pretty much just need to recreate the Wedding Crashers movie. The only one of those that could be a problem is the “look adorable” one, but if Trainer Jarrod and Schelbi invite blind people like I suggested, then I’ll be fine. Blind people think I look like Denzel. I can’t help it, I just have one of those faces I guess. Sorry, Denzy. Wait. No, you’re welcome, Denzy! I will not apologize for having the same elegant-yet-rugged facial structure as you.
I need suggestions for the following:
Yes, I may be able to make you cry, laugh, and think “holy cow, I’m much better off than those people” with my blog stories, but they take time. And the only thing I have for this speech thing is along the lines of, “we’re gathered here today…to find out what kind of tail Jarrod and Schelbi would have.” Don’t worry, that will be included. But I need more. I would also like examples of what not to say.
2) Dance moves.
I can do a mean sprinkler and cabbage patch dance, but I need to add more to my repertoire. I can only stir-the-pot for so long before it gets boring. I need dance move suggestions, but please, no stupid ones. Ok, maybe a few. Depending on what they are.
3) Bachelor party ideas.
Believe it or not, I’m an introvert. I don’t party or go clubbing nearly as much as I imply. At the moment, the bachelor party ideas are as follows: Part 1) Get chocolate Frosty. Part 2) Take nap.
Actually, never mind. That’s a great bachelor party idea! Bachelor Party: Check!
Much like the last one, I’m not the ladies man I lead everyone to believe. I know, it’s hard to comprehend, just let the shock sink in first and then continue reading. Better? Ok. I’m not nearly the Eric Matthews-esk ladies man everyone thinks I am (Yes, that’s a Boy Meets World reference). That being said, I can’t go to my own brothers wedding by myself. Especially when I’m the Best Man! …co-Best Man. Whatever. It’s just not American. Honestly, I would like to have Claire Holt go as my date, but I don’t have her email address so I’m unable to ask her. If I did, this could totally be like a modern day You’ve Got Mail scenario (except for the excessive drama, bad 90’s clothing, not knowing the real identity of the other person, etc). I think. If you happen to have it, please, feel free to share it with me. :)
This next thing is my favorite part of this whole blog.
Trainer Jarrod has been nagging me for weeks about what his bachelor party and everything will consist of. This is going to confuse him significantly and most likely get him all hot and bothered. He sometimes struggles with deciphering what I do and don’t exaggerate about in my posts.
So, Trainer Jarrod, this one’s for you! :)