Wedding
12/27
After a successful visit to both the doctor and the dentist, a quick drive through and a quick drive through Wendy's, I picked up the Tim half of "Timifer" to give him a ride to San Antonio for the wedding.
Company on road trips is a funny thing. Sometimes it's really nice, and sometimes it just gets in the way of quality rocking out time. This was an instance of the latter, really. I don't have that much in common with Tim, but we did chat about the old marching band days at Baylor (turns out it was a good thing I skipped out on year four).
We arrived somewhat tardy due to Tim's failing to be ready on time, quickly checked into the hotel, and loaded up into the Suburban (or something) that Joe had rented to go try on our tuxes.
Turns out most of us had been ill-measured. Having taken steps to resolve this, we moved on to an evening of bachelor-partying. We started out at the Spurs game, and I paid $15 for nachos and a beer. That was dinner. I survived the game without dying of boredom, and it was on to our next destination.
I won't detail the next few hours because, well, it's not exactly something I want to be part of the public record. Suffice it to say that we had a good time (well, most of us) and I learned two very important things. Most of you have already heard the story; those that haven't need only ask...
By the time we headed back to the hotel for poker, I had a full-on tension headached and spent the rest of the evening curled up on the bed trying to ignore the pain. At least I didn't miss out on much there.
12/28
We awoke late the next morning, or possibly early the next afternoon. Bryan, brother Evan, Tim and I went in search of food and ended up at Fudrucker's, though later we found out that we really should have eaten at Shilo's instead. We killed a little more time, poked around the (very nice) hotel, and headed for the rehearsal, as I was in charge of getting us there in time.
Surprisingly, not only did we make it on time, but we were the only ones who did. We were sitting in the mission, and somebody asked us if we would be singing. I guess we looked musical. We also had somebody tell us to be quiet and respectful, as they were trying to appreciate being in a house of worship. I bit my tongue and skipped out on telling them that we had rented this particular house of worship for our own purposes and that if our talking was a problem, he should consider renting it out himself, and probably something else he should do as well.
The rest of the wedding party showed up, I saw people I hadn't seen in quite some time, we rehearsed, and then departed for the rehearsal dinner.
It was at a Mexican place. The appetizers were the highlight food-wise, particularly the... "diabolitos", was it? Bacon-wrapped chicken stuffed with cheese and jalapeños. Could you fit any more goodness in there? I think not.
Not really wanting to be sociable with relatives of Bryan and Lisa that I would probably never see again, I hung out with Bryan's cousin Paul in a manner as out of the way as possible, and snagged appetizers whenever possible.
The event itself was nice enough. Good stories and well-done toasts and such. And with that done, it was time for part two of the bachelor party. Bryan, Joe and I picked up some beer and mixers from HEB and returned to the hotel. Lisa's aunt had graciously supplied us with some cigars, so we decided to go down to the river walk, light up, and find a bar. Weaving between the hordes of Nebraska fans celebrating their victory, we smoked the very, very long cigars.
We reached the bar that Joe had in mind, ignored the dirty looks that the cigars were drawing, and had some beer, until the place closed, at which point we returned to the hotel. I stayed behind for a minute to finish off the last of my cigar, and we retired for the night.
12/29
We got up none to early and departed to complete our appointed tasks, namely picking up lunch from Central Market and picking up the tuxes, some of which were still not ready, so Customer Service Matt took care of business.
We got back to the hotel, lunched, tried with only moderate success to use hotel ballpoint pens as bottle openers for Dublin Dr. Pepper, and returned to our room, cute photographer girl in tow, dressed, and departed for the mission to get Bryan's ass married.
More pictures were taken at the (beautiful) mission, and I fielded calls from Stephanie to try to get her to the wedding.
The wedding itself was very nice, though the guitarist shamefully used some god awful MIDI backing tracks. Bryan's quite conservative grandfather interjected some crap about Bryan's role as the spiritual head of the household into the prayer and I (literally) bit my tongue (to keep from laughing).
Bryan went through with it and never said the safety word, so my team of men didn't have to stage a fake kidnapping to get him to a car which was fueled, packed, and ready to take him to Canada to start his new life. Just, you know, in case.
I had never been quite sure whether the mariachis that were hired to play after the ceremony were a good idea, but damn if it didn't work well.
After a quick stop at a dollar store to pick up some Dr. Pepper cans with which to decorate Bryan (since there was no car taking the new couple off to their honeymoon), we arrived at the ceremony, I caught up with my parents and my date, and I had some great Mexican-style cocoa.
We had a nice meal, though I didn't get my fill of wine (do I ever?) and somehow we got screwed and got the sham-pagne. The people at our table also turned out to be dirty thieves who stole my chocolates. I enjoyed time catching up with the church crew that was there, and tried (and probably failed) to keep Stephanie entertained. Lisa's family took over the dance floor. Thomas and Ali left to go to their hotel room for reasons which I dare not consider.
The reception kept going, but eventually those of us who were not newlyweds but were inclined to have a few drinks retired to my room. Shawn, in an impressive display of dedication, bought a six pack from the bar (god knows how much that cost him). I, for my part, enjoyed my iced-down Lone Stars. As per my orders, I called Thom to invite him to join us, but he informed me that he was "busy". I told him to get back to work.
We called it a night relatively early.
After a successful visit to both the doctor and the dentist, a quick drive through and a quick drive through Wendy's, I picked up the Tim half of "Timifer" to give him a ride to San Antonio for the wedding.
Company on road trips is a funny thing. Sometimes it's really nice, and sometimes it just gets in the way of quality rocking out time. This was an instance of the latter, really. I don't have that much in common with Tim, but we did chat about the old marching band days at Baylor (turns out it was a good thing I skipped out on year four).
We arrived somewhat tardy due to Tim's failing to be ready on time, quickly checked into the hotel, and loaded up into the Suburban (or something) that Joe had rented to go try on our tuxes.
Turns out most of us had been ill-measured. Having taken steps to resolve this, we moved on to an evening of bachelor-partying. We started out at the Spurs game, and I paid $15 for nachos and a beer. That was dinner. I survived the game without dying of boredom, and it was on to our next destination.
I won't detail the next few hours because, well, it's not exactly something I want to be part of the public record. Suffice it to say that we had a good time (well, most of us) and I learned two very important things. Most of you have already heard the story; those that haven't need only ask...
By the time we headed back to the hotel for poker, I had a full-on tension headached and spent the rest of the evening curled up on the bed trying to ignore the pain. At least I didn't miss out on much there.
12/28
We awoke late the next morning, or possibly early the next afternoon. Bryan, brother Evan, Tim and I went in search of food and ended up at Fudrucker's, though later we found out that we really should have eaten at Shilo's instead. We killed a little more time, poked around the (very nice) hotel, and headed for the rehearsal, as I was in charge of getting us there in time.
Surprisingly, not only did we make it on time, but we were the only ones who did. We were sitting in the mission, and somebody asked us if we would be singing. I guess we looked musical. We also had somebody tell us to be quiet and respectful, as they were trying to appreciate being in a house of worship. I bit my tongue and skipped out on telling them that we had rented this particular house of worship for our own purposes and that if our talking was a problem, he should consider renting it out himself, and probably something else he should do as well.
The rest of the wedding party showed up, I saw people I hadn't seen in quite some time, we rehearsed, and then departed for the rehearsal dinner.
It was at a Mexican place. The appetizers were the highlight food-wise, particularly the... "diabolitos", was it? Bacon-wrapped chicken stuffed with cheese and jalapeños. Could you fit any more goodness in there? I think not.
Not really wanting to be sociable with relatives of Bryan and Lisa that I would probably never see again, I hung out with Bryan's cousin Paul in a manner as out of the way as possible, and snagged appetizers whenever possible.
The event itself was nice enough. Good stories and well-done toasts and such. And with that done, it was time for part two of the bachelor party. Bryan, Joe and I picked up some beer and mixers from HEB and returned to the hotel. Lisa's aunt had graciously supplied us with some cigars, so we decided to go down to the river walk, light up, and find a bar. Weaving between the hordes of Nebraska fans celebrating their victory, we smoked the very, very long cigars.
We reached the bar that Joe had in mind, ignored the dirty looks that the cigars were drawing, and had some beer, until the place closed, at which point we returned to the hotel. I stayed behind for a minute to finish off the last of my cigar, and we retired for the night.
12/29
We got up none to early and departed to complete our appointed tasks, namely picking up lunch from Central Market and picking up the tuxes, some of which were still not ready, so Customer Service Matt took care of business.
We got back to the hotel, lunched, tried with only moderate success to use hotel ballpoint pens as bottle openers for Dublin Dr. Pepper, and returned to our room, cute photographer girl in tow, dressed, and departed for the mission to get Bryan's ass married.
More pictures were taken at the (beautiful) mission, and I fielded calls from Stephanie to try to get her to the wedding.
The wedding itself was very nice, though the guitarist shamefully used some god awful MIDI backing tracks. Bryan's quite conservative grandfather interjected some crap about Bryan's role as the spiritual head of the household into the prayer and I (literally) bit my tongue (to keep from laughing).
Bryan went through with it and never said the safety word, so my team of men didn't have to stage a fake kidnapping to get him to a car which was fueled, packed, and ready to take him to Canada to start his new life. Just, you know, in case.
I had never been quite sure whether the mariachis that were hired to play after the ceremony were a good idea, but damn if it didn't work well.
After a quick stop at a dollar store to pick up some Dr. Pepper cans with which to decorate Bryan (since there was no car taking the new couple off to their honeymoon), we arrived at the ceremony, I caught up with my parents and my date, and I had some great Mexican-style cocoa.
We had a nice meal, though I didn't get my fill of wine (do I ever?) and somehow we got screwed and got the sham-pagne. The people at our table also turned out to be dirty thieves who stole my chocolates. I enjoyed time catching up with the church crew that was there, and tried (and probably failed) to keep Stephanie entertained. Lisa's family took over the dance floor. Thomas and Ali left to go to their hotel room for reasons which I dare not consider.
The reception kept going, but eventually those of us who were not newlyweds but were inclined to have a few drinks retired to my room. Shawn, in an impressive display of dedication, bought a six pack from the bar (god knows how much that cost him). I, for my part, enjoyed my iced-down Lone Stars. As per my orders, I called Thom to invite him to join us, but he informed me that he was "busy". I told him to get back to work.
We called it a night relatively early.
posted by L. Maxwell Ward at 2:01 AM
