Another one bites the dust
I was shivering with anticipation. Why was I so giddy? It was because I was relishing the prospect of a 5.5 hour drive from Edmonton Alberta to Fairview Alberta. Now some might be asking, just where in the hell IS Fairview. While the answer to that question would make a good Jeopardy response...I'll put you out of your misery now. Fairview is about 1 hour North of Grande Prairie in the middle of god's country.Why were we going to Fairview? Because as Queen sings, "Another one bites the dust". That's right...it was Yackie's (er....Jackie's) wedding and many of us had an invitation to go to the social event of the year as far as that sleepy little town was concerned.
The trip and the weekend was amazing...and, hopefully, unlike the last blog entry I can cut down on the length and instead replace it with pictures!
Friday
Friday started great. Afterall, I didn't have to go to work since it was a holiday and my day only got better when Robin called me to ask if Cori and I could "pick her up". Regretably, my elation was somewhat diminished when I realized that she was NOT proposing a threesome...but, meh, you win some and you lose some. We roll up to Chad's parent's house and are immediately attacked by a rabid pitbull of a neighbor.
You see, all the parking stalls in front of their house were taken, so we had parked TEMPORARILY behind Robin's car. That particular stretch of the sidewalk belonged to another house and there were "no parking" signs on each end of the property line. Realizing that I was illegally "parked", but knowing that we were leaving in all of 5 minutes, I took my chances with the motor running.
And that's when this fucking bitch comes out from her hobbit hole and announces, "Guess you can't read, huh".
Wow...and good morning to you too, sunshine! Ugh...as Moose would say, "Back into the Loch with you, Nessie".
Recognizing immediately that this lady was "that girl", I simply responded, "Yes, I saw the sign...but I am only picking up my girl friend and we'll be gone in a moment, thanks ma'am". But she didn't quit! FINALLY I just announced out of exasperation, "Look...we'll be gone in two seconds, seriously...".
Never mind the fact that not once did I shut off the ignition, and hence was never actually parked. But she didn't seem to be the one that would understand the subtle nuances of the law. I then proceeded (in classic fashion) to pretend to ignore her. As did Corinna.
Shortly thereafter, we met up with the rest of our convoy -- namely, Grant driving the Plymouth Laser along with Greg and Garth for a fueling up both for our cars and our bodies. Mmmmm....Harvey's....droooooollll. I gave Turks a burnt CD in exchange for a walkie talkie. You see, the deal with our road trips is that we always bring along a two-way radio. Seriously, it makes the ride go way faster. For my part, I explained that the CD contained songs about Roads, or Trucks, or Transportation of some kind in some way.
For example: Song one of the CD: "Convoy" by Paul Brandt.
The first time that I can recall getting sustained response on the two-way was song four of the CD: "Leaving on a Jet Plane" by Chantal Kreviazuk. Yup...a quintessential chick song in a car full of dudes.
The trip itself was like most road trips, featuring a couple of pit stops and a chinese fire drill in downtown Whitecourt. But for the most part in eventful...until we got on the last stretch of divided highway up to Grande Prairie. Since I'll never be able to explain it in words...may I present exhibit A:
My car, literally, was no more than 4 feet away from Grant's. In the end, our hand off was incredibly stupid of us to do...but look at this concentration! How could we NOT try?
While the car might have been going 130 per hour, the adrenline was pumping at a million miles a minute. After the handoff, we became rejuvenated; powered up if you will. The chatter over the two-ways became incredible and non-stop. After a while, Grant asked me if I was able to understand who (in his car) was talking and mentioned that it was pretty easy for them to tell when I was on the radio (since my only other car mates were chicks).
At this point, someone ELSE got onto our channel. Sensing a brilliant opportunity was at hand, I replied back to Grant to explain that I was going to have Cori punch me square in the nuts and then we'd see how well they could guess who was talking. Needless to say, the chick that had been listening in nervously stammers, "Uh...Mike, I think we better change channels, pronto"! Flawless victory.
Soon we had to part ways. You see, Corinna and I had booked ourselves two delicious nights at the $53 per night hotel and didn't want to miss out on that action. But by the same token, Grant et al were trying to lure me with promises of poker and the cashino in Grande Prairie if only I stayed. And they were like Wile Coyote, trying to keep me from keeping on to Fairview; pointing out that Corinna could drive the rest of the way, etc. It took every fibre of my being to resist...but Jebus would later thank me for my commitment.
For starters, I got to drive over Alberta's only remaining suspension bridge. Luckily for you, we have a picture!
We finally drop Robin off at the farm, drive the rest of the way to Fairview. Like weary soldiers we march up to the front desk and request our check-inn. The lady at the front informs us that "there'd been a little mix-up". Uh oh...that can't be good. I began making preperations to "make like Jesus" and look for a manger to sleep in. But fortunately I was not relegated to some horse stall on a farmer's barn. Instead, they informed us that they had no choice but to provide us with a free room upgrade to the HONEYMOON SUITE! (The bad news was that the room rate was almost double what we were expecting).
Boo-yah. Take that, Grant / Garth / Turkey. See what you almost made me miss??? It had a living room, two-man jacuzzi tub; king sized bed; and a full length mirror at the end of said bed! What a treat...
After unpacking and then eating at the finest restaurant in town -- Subway -- we get back to the room in time to get a call from Robin to meet them downstairs in the Aurora sports bar for a drink. Jackie and Gordie are there, along with (pretty much) every young person that was going to be at the wedding. After a few beer we start playing this game where you have to introduce yourself and announce if you are single or not.
When it gets to Jackie, I cleverly shout out that she is DEFINATELY NOT SINGLE. Normally this would not have to be said; but, well....Gord is from a REALLY small town and the choice of women ain't good to begin with. Nevermind the fact that I didn't exactly trust Jackie's cousins....after all, they ARE from Eckville.
Saturday
We wake up in the morning really early. I announce to Cori that I'm going for a run with only one problem -- I didn't pack enough t-shirts to go running. No worry; I'll just go shirtless; besides, I could use the sun. So I'm jogging down the road and get to this four way stop where I'm greeted by a minivan filled with women. They see me and honk and wave wildly -- they were excited to see the beefcake! My chest sticks out just that little bit extra 'cause I realize that these minivan moms probably don't get to see these kinds of sights everyday.
I give them a wave and keep jogging; happy to have brought a little ray of sunshine into what ordinarily must be a dull existence.
I get back to the hotel and get purdy for the wedding. Chad (who had previously decided not to come to the wedding) phones us to let us know that on his way. Suh-weet! He rolls up with an hour to spare and also gets purdied up...just in time for Greg to roll into our room with a bottle of rum. SHOTS FOR EVERYONE BEFORE THE WEDDING!
We get to the Church and take our places. Before long, the woman of the hour arrives. She is absolutely stunning:
In the back ground, I hear Chad faintly whistling Squeeze's "Tempted by the Fruit of Another".
The ceremony itself, I am sorry to say, blew ass. Don't get me wrong...the bride and groom where great. The singer was phenominal. The flower girl and ring bear were cute as buttons. Everything was perfect -- the problem was that the Priest did not speak any semblance of English. Jesus on a stick! Where do they find these people? The only thing I can distinctly remember is him talking about India and a threesome with Jebus, or something like that.
After the ceremony, we are right ready to get pissed. Except that we first needed to stop to take a picture of a stone plaque that read "Loving Memory of the Innocent Victims of Abortion". Hey...I don't blame the Catholic church for having strong views about this subject...but did they have to display it so prominently? Here is a picture; someone (Grant?) has a better one with Chad standing side-by-side said plaque.
We get back to the hotel room and begin drinking in earnest and playing poker-for-shots. In no time, my mickey of rye is whittled down to nothing and Cori has polished off a whole bottle of wine...in little over an hour! I refill my mickey, stuff it down my pants and untuck my shirt. I may look like a classless fool but when you are smuggling booze into a wedding, you can't afford to look good.
I Now, I only think that it's fair that you see a picture of us BEFORE we are completely gooned out of our minds... Ooops, too late...I can tell that I'm ready to PAR-TAY DOWN in this pic. Or, maybe this is because we're watching the new Jessica Simpson video...who knows?
Along the way to the school Grant, Greg, and I stop in the Aurora sports lounge for a couple of shots. 'Cause why drink free / cheap booze when you can pay through the nose for it, right? A quick gladiator later and we were rolling out. Naturally, I'm snapped.
We get to the school -- an elementary school no less -- and sit down at our table Table 14. Jackie...oh, you crazy chicka...you have made it OFFICIAL.
Now this being a country wedding, there were no table numbers (uh...for you city folk...it's actually a common occurence amongst country weddings). But there was one table -- in the deepest darkest corner of the hall reserved for Table 14. You see, at our wedding, we put all the crazy drunk guys at Table 14. That in and of itself was not unusual...instead, it was the fact that I made specific REFERENCE to Table 14 in my wedding speech, thereby igniting this whole shenanigan. We made a pact that the next wedding (and every wedding there after) would have to have a Table 14 and we'd have to sit at it.
We started it and Jackie continued it... From now on, every wedding of my friends that I go to HAS to have a Table 14... Robin and Chad, since you guys are next, you have the dubious task of assigning people to that table. Maybe you'll need 14A and 14B?
We get to the party, have our picture taken, and make our way to the table were I hide the mickey under a sombrero of corn chips. Regretably, fafter I lift the hat, all of the corn chips fall onto the table. That's okay...in our drunken state we eat them anyways. At this point we have an open bar...and yet we're still drinking purchased booze! Keep in mind that this is on top of the triple rye and coke's Turkey and I are had obtained from the bar as well as the doubles for the rest of the table...the hint (and I do mean hint) of Coca-Cola makes it look like we're drinking ice tea!
Check out that great bunch of folks at table 14. Notice also the booze. ALL of it would be gone (and then some) before too long. The people you DON'T recognize are Wes and Steph. They didn't quite understand the legend of Table 14. They would by the end of the night.
The wedding party makes its grand entrance and soon enough we are in line to get food. I don't know how we got in there so quickly; I think it's 'cause Grant new how to speak Mexican or something. (As did I..."Arriba" and "Ole" being two such words).
We fill up on food and I can barely eat everything on my plate. So...being an IDIOT I go for more. Two plates later and I can barely move. My eyes are heavy and I'm worried that I'm down for the count. Wes and Steph (the only non-6 Henday people at Table 14) are worried that I'm not going to make it.
But then I look around and see all the little hulkamaniacs who are cheering me on.I shake off the lethargy and go hard...right into a pile of gym mats!
The shenanigans happen fast and furious. Regretably, there are not pictures for them all. Highlights include:
1. After supper, the usual course of food through the bowels occurred for a guest at the wedding. Regretably, he did not make it to the bathroom. That's right...a hot steamy turd on the floor of the men's bathroom. Why do I tell you this? Because you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and then you have the Facts of Life.
2. The theme of the wedding was mexican. As you can see, Cori took this in earnest:
Speaking of Mexican's...what is a fiesta without a pinata? Check out this little guy...I was right in the middle of the action and almost got nailed in the head.
And...going and saving the best for last, Chad would later boast about how much candy the kids had given him after the pinata burst. Uh...Chad...you're busted you ass. Stealing candy from a child -- an all new low.
3. Before long, as you can imagine, we were too drunk to stand. But that did not deter me -- I went up for more coke (you know, since the Mickey was still under the sombrero). Along the way, Robin calls out my name so I stumble over to the head table.
"So...", she says, "Did you happen to have a minivan honk at you this morning and see a bunch of girls waving"?
Uh oh...how did she know? I cautiously replied that yes, that had happened. Turns out that it was NOT a bunch of minivan moms...but instead was the bridal party! I was crushed...my one chance to excite a bunch of cougars was dashed and ruined forever. But then I thought about it -- it was women my own age that were excited to see me half naked, thereby making the story that much better.
Giggity, giggity. In the words of Jackie (according to Robin), I had made her have last second thoughts about marrying Gordie!
4. The dance had started and we were all shaking our rumps on the dance floor. It should be noted that at one point I was doing the chicken dance -- by myself... There were other funny events on the dance floor such as Chad and Grant dancing TOGETHER and Turkey wearing 5 pairs of blow up boobies. I don't know where they came from...but Grant and I started licking the nipples.
Regretably, NONE of this is on film...
5. The garter toss was a gong show. Turkey tackled the guy who grabbed it. Here is the aftermath:
6. Uh...don't ask. I have no idea. Yes...that is a butterfly on my second top most button.
7. And saving the best for last, the guys got to do the "One Last Dance" with the bride. You know, where the guys make a huge circle around the bride and then dance with her as she comes around? Well, most guys were two-stepping with her...but not Turkey and I. No...instead, we make a JACKIE SANDWICH. Use your imagination. I still recall vividly her gasp... We DO have pictures of the dance...but they are so blurry and dark that I didn't include them -- don't worry, I have all the pictures that I need up here ( ** taps head ** ).
Phew...and that's not all. But I figure this has been long enough as it is and without pictures there is no sense describing it. It was finally time for this hombre to go home to bed and pass out, don't you agree?
The next morning was hell. Literally. As you can see we were forced into detention (i.e. gift opening) ... I haven't had to sit on chairs like this in a long time. They were hard and bony...is it any wonder that kids act up in class?
posted by Team Shawn Michaels @ 8:57 p.m.
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