and the beat goes on...
oh the wedding was just lovely, such a refreshing contrast to the the trainwreck to which i accompanied my best-friend chemgirl two weekends ago: that one was typical long island 'finery.' ('look, honey, two types of caviar, a champagne bar, and ice sculptures.' 'typical.' 'oh, absolutely, and expected at that, just wondering if he or she is mafia of if it's financed by citibank.' 'don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to. let's go say hi to the groom. "angelo!"')
nuff said.
but this past weekend was so different and peaceful. arrived to the hotel at 1am after calling the elderly, surly, (and kind of odd) front desk 'host', no fewer than twice to ensure, in my obsessive compusive style, that he would NOT be giving the room away, that i was was running late, etc. 'yes, and when you called two hours ago i told you the same thing.' well now. no need to take THAT tone, mr. snippy.
the next morning, though the wedding was, oh, 500 feet from the hotel, i still managed to miss most of the ceremony. (these things happen.) the couple is splendid together, talk about yin and yang: perfect. (but i say that from afar, she probably beats him and he probably has a pornography collection that would make hugh hefner blush, but still, indulge my fantasy.) grabbed a drink with the crowd between the wedding and the reception, thus starting my buzz circa 1230p (later than usual on a saturday.) the music selection was perfect, and there was no electric slide or funky chicken to be had by anyone. for that, i'm forever grateful.
whilst in the land of hot springs (who knew), i decided, instead, to work off the openbarbuzz that night in the hotter-than-hell-tub, alternating with dips in the big-boy-sized-but-only-went-to-4-feet-deep pool. duked it out with martha, the elderly front desk 'hostess' about the lack-of internet access after that. 'there is a cord in the room. you plug the cord in, when the computer is off, then boot up and you're on fire, brother.' 'you're saying that because i'm gay.' [totally, totally kidding, just thought i'd give granny a thrill.'] 'oh no sir! absolutely not! we here at the [hotel] make NO judgments on any of our guests!' 'just kidding, peanut. tons of love from room 134 to you lovely gals here at the front desk.'
...
'martha, sweetie, the cord doesn't work. not on fire, sister.' 'oh, well, see this number, just call it and they should be able to tap into your connection remotely! how grand is that!' 'yeah, but it's a charge to CALL from the little hotel phone. um, you people don't have wifi anywhere around here? business center?' [staring blankly.] 'oh no, we don't have that. but we do have wireless internet in the lobby. you can sit anywhere around here.' 'praise allah, sister, you've been holding out on me! i'll be flaming in no time.' [the guy in the lobby, about my age, who witnessed the whole thing busted out at this point.]
but by that time, i was in that post-wedding-fuzzy am-i-still-drunk-or-hungover-and-does-it-matter-because-the-chlorine-made-my-eyes-look-like-satan-and-i'm-scaring-other-guests mode, so i logged on quickly to check my mail and pick out a lewd t-shirt for the season and called it a night.
managed to make it to a denny's last weekend, thank goodness, my all time, hands down, do NOT judge me, favorite restaurant in the world. something there happened, however, in the last few years. see, there wasn't one thing for a veg such as myself: nearly everything had bacon or ham or sausage, or bacon, ham, AND sausage, maybe steak, maybe chicken, maybe chicken-fried steak, but the only thing on the whole goddam menu that i could eat was one of the slams: eggs with potatoes, toast, AND pancakes. i could hear atkins groan. and i liked it.
so that is my tale from the upstate wedding of 2005. managed to get the only weddings to which i've been invited in the last five years done in subsequent weekends, which was lovely, just in time for the holidays, for the holidays, as you can imagine, will bring their own sets of insanities. called chemgirl on the phone when i got to the george washington bridge, about ready to ejaculate on myself out of happiness that i was out of the god-forsaken country, and talked over the wedding. 'oh sweetie, it was NOTHING like last weekend.' [and being rather burnt, my filter was off. my intonation was, um, dead on.] 'hey now!' 'oh, i mean, two types of caviar are lovely, if you're into aborted fish and all, but this was just sooo real and perfect, not plastic and sterile.' 'oh sweetie, that was a mild wedding. i should take you to a good one.' 'there is no need to threaten me.'
nuff said.
but this past weekend was so different and peaceful. arrived to the hotel at 1am after calling the elderly, surly, (and kind of odd) front desk 'host', no fewer than twice to ensure, in my obsessive compusive style, that he would NOT be giving the room away, that i was was running late, etc. 'yes, and when you called two hours ago i told you the same thing.' well now. no need to take THAT tone, mr. snippy.
the next morning, though the wedding was, oh, 500 feet from the hotel, i still managed to miss most of the ceremony. (these things happen.) the couple is splendid together, talk about yin and yang: perfect. (but i say that from afar, she probably beats him and he probably has a pornography collection that would make hugh hefner blush, but still, indulge my fantasy.) grabbed a drink with the crowd between the wedding and the reception, thus starting my buzz circa 1230p (later than usual on a saturday.) the music selection was perfect, and there was no electric slide or funky chicken to be had by anyone. for that, i'm forever grateful.
whilst in the land of hot springs (who knew), i decided, instead, to work off the openbarbuzz that night in the hotter-than-hell-tub, alternating with dips in the big-boy-sized-but-only-went-to-4-feet-deep pool. duked it out with martha, the elderly front desk 'hostess' about the lack-of internet access after that. 'there is a cord in the room. you plug the cord in, when the computer is off, then boot up and you're on fire, brother.' 'you're saying that because i'm gay.' [totally, totally kidding, just thought i'd give granny a thrill.'] 'oh no sir! absolutely not! we here at the [hotel] make NO judgments on any of our guests!' 'just kidding, peanut. tons of love from room 134 to you lovely gals here at the front desk.'
...
'martha, sweetie, the cord doesn't work. not on fire, sister.' 'oh, well, see this number, just call it and they should be able to tap into your connection remotely! how grand is that!' 'yeah, but it's a charge to CALL from the little hotel phone. um, you people don't have wifi anywhere around here? business center?' [staring blankly.] 'oh no, we don't have that. but we do have wireless internet in the lobby. you can sit anywhere around here.' 'praise allah, sister, you've been holding out on me! i'll be flaming in no time.' [the guy in the lobby, about my age, who witnessed the whole thing busted out at this point.]
but by that time, i was in that post-wedding-fuzzy am-i-still-drunk-or-hungover-and-does-it-matter-because-the-chlorine-made-my-eyes-look-like-satan-and-i'm-scaring-other-guests mode, so i logged on quickly to check my mail and pick out a lewd t-shirt for the season and called it a night.
managed to make it to a denny's last weekend, thank goodness, my all time, hands down, do NOT judge me, favorite restaurant in the world. something there happened, however, in the last few years. see, there wasn't one thing for a veg such as myself: nearly everything had bacon or ham or sausage, or bacon, ham, AND sausage, maybe steak, maybe chicken, maybe chicken-fried steak, but the only thing on the whole goddam menu that i could eat was one of the slams: eggs with potatoes, toast, AND pancakes. i could hear atkins groan. and i liked it.
so that is my tale from the upstate wedding of 2005. managed to get the only weddings to which i've been invited in the last five years done in subsequent weekends, which was lovely, just in time for the holidays, for the holidays, as you can imagine, will bring their own sets of insanities. called chemgirl on the phone when i got to the george washington bridge, about ready to ejaculate on myself out of happiness that i was out of the god-forsaken country, and talked over the wedding. 'oh sweetie, it was NOTHING like last weekend.' [and being rather burnt, my filter was off. my intonation was, um, dead on.] 'hey now!' 'oh, i mean, two types of caviar are lovely, if you're into aborted fish and all, but this was just sooo real and perfect, not plastic and sterile.' 'oh sweetie, that was a mild wedding. i should take you to a good one.' 'there is no need to threaten me.'
posted by tom at 9:15 PM
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