Wedding Crasher and a Legendary Antiquing
A co-worker of mine, LeeLee, got hitched back in 2005. I attended the wedding with the brides' sisters' boyfriend, who happened to be one of my good friends, Portugal. The cameraman, DoubleD, also worked with me and was seated at our table. There was a lot of homemade wine, a lot of food and a lot more alcohol. I didn't know anyone else at the table and I'm not sure if these people truly understood the degree of stupidity they would witness on this night.
The wedding got off to a bad start for me. When Portugal and I walked into the church, we shut off our cell phones...so I thought. During the exchanging of the vows, BrownTown sent me a text message and of course my phone went off. I was slick about it and barely moved to shut the bastard up. From the Intel I gathered later on in the evening, people thought it was a woman in a red dress sitting behind me. Sweet. The ceremony was nice, they got married, no one made a spectacle of anything, it all went smoothly. Afterwards, we hooked up with a couple who own a catering service three minutes from my house and hit up a bar right next to the reception hall. It was alright, they were good people and they refused to let us pick up any of the rounds, which, FYI, scores monster points in my heart.
The hall itself was elegant. There were hors d'oeuvres outside and bottled beer. All the people there knew each other. I only knew Portugal, his girlfriend Shawnee (the maid of honour) and DoubleD. I smashed a few beers then went into the hall to be seated. There were already bottles of wine at our table so I began pouring myself full glasses of red and walked around trying to mingle. On my travels, I met an 80 year-old nun, who loved me (go figure), and assorted family members who would pour me glasses of red wine if I was on low or empty. I was beginning to get tipsy and it was barely 5pm. The five course meal was being served so I sat back down and tried conversing with the people at our table. Christ were they stale. There was a McGill University coach or professor or some shit and he was giving me a hard time because I wanted to go to Concordia where my program of interest was renowned. He pissed me off so I started flirting with his wife.
By the time the main course came, I was hammered. The chicken looked delicious but then so did everything I drunkenly leered at. After the meal I made my way over to the nun and amused her with some stupid antics. Then I went over to Shawnee’s little cousins and tried teaching them how to swear. The parents were looking at me like I was the Devil incarnate. Whatever, they needed to learn profanity at some point. It was like community service. The wine kept pouring and I kept slamming it back. At around 9pm, I decided to take a half hour break. Portugal had a headache and was dead on a bench outside so I sat with him and jabbered away while he slept. Then, out of nowhere, BrownTown popped in. Yessssss! Now it's a party!
We went back to the "bar", which was just the DJ booth with bottles of hard liquor and two-fours, and ordered some rum and Cokes. The barkeep couldn't have been more than 18 (I was only 20 at the time), if that, so we took full advantage. We had this kid pouring the dirtiest drinks of all time. Three quarters rum, four ice cubes and a splash of Coke, destruction in a glass. We were hammering these down all night long during the massive dancing sessions. I was bouncing around with the bride’s father, our neck ties tied around our heads, wasted out of our skulls, slurring words to the point where there were puddles by our feet. I kept kissing the nun on the cheeks and I'm pretty sure I made a pass at the bride’s mother. This drunken stupidity went on until we left; I don't remember what time it was.
We hopped into DoubleD's van and drove off to BrownTown's for the after party. OneLove, BrownTown’s older brother, and some of his buddies were in the basement coming down from a psychedelics buzz or something and my presence was more than unwelcome. I was harassing everyone for no reason, telling them how drunk I was, asking them who they were and when they answered I would say, "Yes but WHO are YOU?" Why? Who knows, I'm an idiot. At one point I grabbed hold of a bottle of Tequila and chugged down a ridiculous amount of it. This spelled severe damage. Physical damage. A few minutes later, I was sitting on BrownTown's front stoop, having a cigarette, leaning against the wall. It's about six or seven feet off the ground. Well I leaned over for whatever reason and plummeted face first into the side DoubleD's van, busting my eye open. According to everyone outside, it was a pretty horrific fall. I was rushed inside to be taken care of but as a shameless drunk, I'd have none of that. Instead I tried to hug everyone. There's a video of me failing to hug OneLove and smashing into the bar.
Anyways, this was the last straw for everyone, I had successfully upset the entire house and now was time to pay the piper. I must've got antiqued a good four or five times, on camera. I looked like fucking Casper the Friendly Ghost after they were done with me. It was pathetic but I was hammered and deserved every bit of balled up powder they could whip at my head. I was then put to sleep.
I had completely forgotten that I was supposed to help Tyler Durden clean some guy’s house the next morning. I woke up at 7am to Tyler Durden shaking me and yelling at me to get up. I was still heavily wasted from the night before, barely able to walk, but he still dragged me to this guy’s house for the cleanup. The owner of the house, Barry, looked at me up and down like I was diseased. I didn't blame him, I looked horrifying. Anyways, Tyler Durden did most of the work while I made an ass of myself.
Later that day I learned I was banned from BrownTown's again for a week, I was the first person to ever receive a ban, and this one was my second, a record that still stands.
Quote of the Day is a tie...
Me lying on the ground by the pool picking up berries one at a time-"So what do you want me to do with these berries, Barry?"
Me asking Barry a good dozen times-"Sooooooo, this is your house eh?"