There are a lot of people, including most of my own friends, who can be considered accomplished drinkers. While I wouldn’t qualify these people as alcoholics, they are no stranger around their drink of preference. Then there are people who drink rarely and many who don’t drink at all. Until their wedding day.
It is unfortunate that some of the more experienced drinkers feel that everybody has to be part of their party and particularly sad when the object of their attention is a virgin drinker and happens to also be the bride.
Such was the case as a wedding took place up in a beautiful country club overlooking the ocean in Palos Verdes, a very upscale region in Southern California. The bride and groom had chosen this venue for its spectacular view of the ocean and rare combination of very good food and first-rate service at a decent price.
As the wedding progressed, things went swimmingly with a beautiful ceremony overlooking the ocean followed by a reception that promised to be memorable.
And it was, but not for the reason the bride had wanted.
Her friends decided that if they were doing shots, the bride should participate. Those who don’t drink don’t realize that one shot immediately makes subsequent shots of booze seem so much better because your ability to decide that they are a bad idea diminishes with each shot of alcohol. The inexperienced also might enjoy the light buzz of one shot but after a few of those, coupled with the nervous tension of a wedding day, the restrictions of a bridal gown and the richness of a gourmet dinner eaten after months of dieting make for a bad, bad combination.
Fortunately the human body has a way of getting ride of such poisons by simply getting rid of them in the quickest way possible. This means is not through the digestive process, but right back through the mouth from whence the poison came. Yep, the bride heaved. This lovely young Asian lady suddenly reenacted the senior President George Bush’s horribly embarrassing barf fest, but instead of hitting the Prime Minister of Japan, she hit her husband.
Her friends immediately sprang into action, taking the spewing beauty off the stage and into the bride’s room where she could continue this reversed intake process.
There was no first dance. There was no father-daughter dance. No cake cutting, money dance or any of the other festivities that make up a wedding reception. The chicken dance didn’t happen. There was no embarrassing four uncles into the YMCA.
Sadly, the bridesmaids hustled their intoxicated beauty into her honeymoon dress, since it was vomit free, and out the back door. The groom came around and snuck his lovely wife away, surely to pass out in the suite that they had reserved to start a new life together.
Bartender, make mine a double.
Filed Under: Weddings
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