Sunday September 24th, 2006
Another fine day
Driving up the 101 I wondered how it could possibly be this hot in September. Luckily I prepared for this by wearing a gym shirt with my dress shirt in the back seat. Britney Spears was sitting next to me messing with the radio, apparently unsatisfied with the Eminem CD I had in the player. (If this sounds weird read the last entry) After being annoyingly reminded why we broke up I was painfully reminded of my age now that “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails is part of the flashback lunch (That’s right, it’s a decade old.) At that point we mutually decided to turn the radio down and talk, for the first time in person for nearly half a year.
“I can’t believe you still don’t have air conditioning.” This drive was just getting better and better. Since we went our separate ways I’ve lost my job, been attacked, and moved into a new apartment. Out of all the obvious conversations she could start she decides the best one to have right now is why my 95’ Honda civic still doesn’t have air conditioning. I think about telling her how it would cost more than the car is worth. I think about telling her it’s a stupid question, especially since I’ve answered it over a dozen times while we were together. I think about opening the door and pushing her out at 80 miles an hour. “Not worth it” I say aloud. I’m still not sure if I was talking to her or myself.
As you’d naturally expect the conversation found its way to Dan and Carol’s wedding. Britney’s wearing a very sexy dress that I pretend I’m not checking out and I’m getting crap about my attire. I point out that I’m going to change my shirt in the parking lot and my dress cloths are in the back seat. (Half an hour in my car with no air conditioning coupled with the California heat and I’m drenched. I learned a while ago that if I need to be presentable I might as well wear a different shirt to events.) It’s at this point that Britney points out that the wedding it out doors.
This would be a problem. My attire for the evening consisted of a white shirt with a heavy charcoal dressy sweater type thing from Banana Republic. (AKA, my interview cloths.) I don’t own any shirts and ties and this is a very nice formal looking sweater thing. The problem is its heavy, and its 90 degrees out and the ceremony’s at noon. I was sweating gallons in a T-shirt; I couldn’t possibly wear that thing to a wedding ON the beach.
After a few jokes at my expense we decided to park in downtown Santa Barbara for a little bit to look for some dressy shirt I could buy and wear instead. We parked and looked at the shops but nothing seemed to work. Most of the clothing stores in this area seem to cater to 60 year old men who like to go big game hunting. I can’t imagine who they sell those cloths to. After a bit more looking we realize there’s just not enough time so we head toward the beach.
I’m so hot sweat is beading up on my face. We walk to where the chairs are set up and sit down in the back. A woman in front of us wearing a blue tissue is complaining about the heat, meanwhile I’m remembering the last time I wore this particular piece of clothing was while visiting my parents for the holidays. I was out site with two feet of snow on the ground and felt comfortable. If I close my eyes it almost feels like I could still be there, of course that’s just the dehydration talking.
By the time Dan and Carol walk down the isle I’m wiping sweat off my face with my hand and rubbing it on the outside of my chair. The priest is saying something but I’m a little distracted by a car driving by blaring Snoop Dogg. The light turns green and we’re given a reprieve but in the mean time I’m wondering if people are going to think I pissed myself from the amount of condensation I’m feeling down below, actually all over.
After the ceremony Britney stayed to talk to some of her friends before we headed over to the reception. I felt like drenching out my cloths and checking my irregular sunburn in the mean time. At this point I encapsulate every possible definition of the word, “Uncomfortable.”
Driving up to the valet I can see the ball room the reception is being held with the angelic promise of air conditioning. On this, one of the most important days of my best friend’s life, I sat at a table 4 praying for an earthquake. I’m soaking wet and some how seated at a table full of Britney’s friends, AKA the brides friends. If it wasn’t Dan’s wedding I’d have killed him.
After eating too much of what was a surprisingly great meal speeches were made telling everyone how great Dan and Carol were together. Normally I’d be a little cynical but they do actually work really well together. (That and Dan reads this site, I’ll save my comments for after the honeymoon.) After this the DJ started playing a series of old/odd songs. It was the kind of music that you’ve heard before but you couldn’t name. Half sounded like it was part of the “Cocoon” soundtrack, the other half was played at roller rinks in junior high. Somehow every song happened to be Britney’s favorite and she danced the night away. Dancing with her was, well everyone. Even Carol’s 3 year old nephew was dancing although I kept my twinkle toes off the dance floor from a combination of too much roast beef and having a treasure map of sweat lining my inner thighs.
The highlight of the evening came when I bumped into Dan’s mom while walking with Britney. She jokingly-but-not-joking asked me and Britney when we were going to tie the knot. I wanted to make some joke to the effect of, “Oh no it’s OK, she had a miscarriage,” but I knew I’d probably be beaten to the point that kids would never be an option. Instead I opted to smile and wait for my chance to congratulate Dan again before what was sure to be a thrilling car ride home.
