WeddingsAttending a wedding is like being handed a licence to act like a twat. Oh how I laughed when I sobered up and realised I'd nicked most of the plates and cutlery from the posh hotel lunch and those vague memories of stealthily exiting like a cat-burglar had in-fact involved falling out of the hotel, knives and forks clattering onto the steps.
Tell us your wedding stories.
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chthonic, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 15:19)
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80's horror movieFor our wedding night, I had booked a room in a 100 year old bed and breakfast out in the country. Shortly before the ceremony, the manager called me and said they'd had a family emergency and nobody would be there when we arrived. She gave me the pass codes for the front door, and the pass code for our room. We'd also be the only guests staying that night.
June 11, the wedding day, Tropical Storm Arlene made landfall on the Gulf Shore, sending us over five inches of rain and gusty winds. The room was nice, except for the tree branch hitting the window.
So there we were, on our wedding night, all alone in a 100 year old house, in the country, in a hurricane with something tapping on the window. All we needed was the demented murderer in the closet and the night would have been complete.
And yes, I do know that rain on your wedding day is supposed to bring a good sex life. But only 5.5 inches? It's seven for sure!
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setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Thu 14 Jul 2005, 16:32,
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