How Not To Spend a Saturday Night
After a fantastic time at Amanda 1's wedding reception, I was supposed to head back to her house to spend the night and then make my 8am flight back to the TC (that's Twin Cities). So let me set the scene for you. I am still wearing my strapless bridesmaid dress and flip flops with a light jacket over it. It's raining out and low 40's at approx 11:30pm. I am tired, wet, cold and hence grumpy as hell. I arrive at Amanda's house with the best man (get your mind out of the gutter) who had left clothes and some stuff in their house the night before and his car outside. I insert the key that Amanda had pointed out as her house key into the lock, but could not get it to turn.
After many futile attempts, I hand over the keys to the best man who is sure (as all men are) that my addled woman brain can't handle this simple task...this turns out to be a fatal mistake. Guess what...no dice. After many more attempts (and asking stupid questions like 'are you sure she didn't give you any other keys?' oh, yeah, I forgot she handed me the extra special super secret key, and all these were just red herrings) he says "wow, I just felt the key bend that time." I warn him to be careful that he doesn't break the key off in the lock...cause that would suck (right, Kathleen?) and guess what happens 30 seconds later?? Gee, he breaks the key off in the lock.
After trying to call various people to find out if there is a hidden key at the house and getting no one answering, I finally say "well, I have family in the area. I'm sure i can find somewhere to stay for the night or if not, I'll just get a hotel. why don't you just leave your stuff here and come get it tomorrow? you have your car keys right?" I probably didn't say that as politely as I think I did because...again...grumpy as hell. He says he has his keys but keeps saying things like "but...but...my shoes are in there.." F*** your shoes! I'm cold and tired. Just as I'm contemplating how to break the news that I would be leaving him in the rain and dark on Amanda's porch to fend for himself, Amanda's new hubby calls. Best man tells me he is driving the 25 minutes or so back to the wedding hotel in order to get another set of keys and looks shocked when I say that I will not be joining him on such a jaunt and will be making other arrangement for accommodations for the evening...errr...early morning?
I call my aunt who happens to live on the next street over from Amanda and who, because Notre Dame was playing in an 8pm game, may actually still be awake at midnight. (even though I was cold and tired, I really didn't want to wake anyone up.) I reached her on her cell phone, and while she was not at home, would be there in a half hour. I figure to take that since it would probably take me a half hour to make other arrangements and drive to other lodging. I spend the waiting time removing the 30 bobby pins (I just counted them. It was 30 exactly) from my hair. She finally gets home, and I change into pj's and climb into bed at around 1am. I have trouble falling asleep as I am shivering uncontrollably from standing on Amanda's porch in a strapless dress and flip flops for about a half hour. I am relieved, however, to finally be in a bed and not have to do the ultimate walk of shame by sleeping in my car and arriving at the airport in my bridesmaid dress.
Up next: How Not To Spend a Sunday Morning