In which Creampuff DOES actually get to the day of the wedding. I know, I know. FINALLY.
The day of Jecr's wedding dawned a pearly grey. Jeba and I congratulated each other on not being too hung over (I'm sure it was the Snickers) and on not barfing in our drunken state the night before, although my voice was still gravelly thanks to my brush with death, Snickers-style. After our morning showers, we had a brief debate over when we were supposed to meet up at Jecr's, as the arrangements had been made several pints and shots of Baileys into the night. I thought noon, two hours before the wedding, was the absolute latest we should be there. Jeba felt strongly that Jecr had said 1:00 p.m. As I was chief bridesmaid and Jeba was "carrier of Roro's purse", I overruled her. Then one of the hostel owners dogs came bounding in, licked all up and down my right leg and bounded back out. I took another shower.
We arrived at Jecr's a little early, again prepared to help with any last minute disaster. Again, there was none, barring the fact that one of the cats had chewed a little on the puffy crinoline of my dress.
"Where is Cach [the groom's sister and the third of the bridesmaid trifecta] this morning?" Caho and I asked curiously as we messed around with some flower arrangements, still thrown by the lack of zero hour panic.
"Oh, she's off having her hair and makeup done," replied Jecr. I felt a little defensive, as obviously I had not done anything fancy like that.
"Well," I said, "I shaved my armpits."
"Plus you washed all that dog saliva off your leg," Jeba supplied helpfully.
"Well done," said Jecr.
"But now that you mention it," I said, "isn't hair and makeup something the bride should be doing too?"
"Pffft," replied Jecr, "who has time? I need all my energy to get into my dress. Now, shall we go get a sandwich?"
After walking to the neighbourhood Spar for sandwiches (mine was "Turkey and Stuffing" and even though it was from a convenience store, it remains fixed in my memory as one of the best sandwiches I have EVER eaten), it was time to get ready. Jecr disappeared with her mother while Caho and I began our minimalist toilette in the living room (I think we basically just put on some lipstick). Jecr had been kind enough to allow us to bring our own dresses; Caho's was a long, shiny, slim-fitting green and mine a long, shiny, slightly pouffy lavendar. Both looked stunning with the wings. Jeanne had given each of us bridesmaid types a gorgeous silver necklace in the shape of the triple Newgrange spiral (see above and to the right), so we carefully put those on as well. My lavendar-painted toenails and Nike Air rubber sandals completed the look.
Thus ready for action, we fiddled with our little corsage-type bouquets, listening to Jecr's cries of "No, Mother! Don't snap the restrictive underwear!" followed by the sounds of elastic snapping and Frcr's gleeful laugh from the bedroom upstairs. Shortly after that, Jecr came downstairs in her dress. And Jecr . . . looked HOT, people.
Her dress was this gorgeous, off-white, off the shoulder, tight bodiced, full-skirted number. She wore a silver and garnet torq round her neck and a flowered wreath in her hair, and to break up all the off-white action, she wore with a shimmery blue wrap that brought out her eyes. She looked calm, serene, happy, radiant and like she might be having trouble breathing all the way in in the dress. I tried really hard not to stare at her boobs because her mom was there and I'm not going to say anything else about them, because her mom sometimes reads my blog. I hoped I was being subtle about it, but that illusion was shattered when Jeba leaned over to me and said "Oh my god, Roro. Stare at my boobs for awhile and give Jecr's a rest." Classy.
At this time, it occurred to us at we should probably be leaving soon, you know, for the wedding. Earlier, Jecr had told us that cabs had been booked to convey us to City Hall. The time for the wedding was drawing nigh. The cabs, however, were not nigh. There were no cabs.
"What time is the wedding again?" Jeba asked.
"Two o'clock," I said.
"At what time is it now?"
"1:40 p.m. Ha ha - OH. Hey, Jecr - who was supposed to book the cabs?”
“Anch [her soon-to-be-brother-in-law],” Jecr replied.
“And when did you charge him with this important assignment?”
“Oh, you know. Last night.”
“Last night? Last night at the pub last night? Last night when he was three sheets to the wind and tried to take my dog purse outside to take a crap last night? Oh my god! There are no cabs, Jecr! No cabs!”
HA! I knew it - a panic-free wedding is like a night without stars. Like many in the UK, Jecr had the "incoming calls only" phone plan and no cell phone, so we couldn’t actually call a cab. Also, it was starting to rain. Thus Frcr, the ever-intrepid mother of the bride, went huffing down to the taxi stand at the end of the road to round up some last minute wedding transport. It seemed like she was gone a long time. It seemed like we might barf. Suddenly, a cab comes round the bend and everyone starts to breathe again. As the cab pulls up, we make an executive decision that Jecr, Caho and myself would go first, as we were the bride and bridal party and therefore essential staff. Frcr, Jeba and Barty would come in a second cab. We three piled our big dresses and two sets of wings into the first cab and roared off.
“Oh,” said Jecr, partway there, “I haven’t my bag. I gave it to my mother.”
“I gave mine to Jeba,” I said and Caho goes “Barty has mine,” and that’s when we realized that we had no money for this cab ride. Jecr turned to the cabbie.
“As you have no doubt surmised,” she said, “it is my wedding day. Any chance of a free ride?”
“Congratulations, love,” said the cabbie jauntily, “and . . . no.”
As we pulled up to city hall, Jecr spotted a friend hovering near the entrance. She stuck her beflowered head out the window of the moving cab and shouted “Have you got 2£?”
“What? I don’t know!” her friend yelled back as she dug frantically through her purse, “I haven’t been paid yet this week!” Fortunately, her kind friend did have the required cash and Jecr paid off the cabbie. The clock ticking down, we hoofed it into the building, wings a-flappin’. That's when I remembered that not only did Jeba have my purse, but she also had the ring. Heh heh.
