Boots and Brooke Tie the Knot

It’s a wedding!  I love weddings!  Food, booze, dancing and I get to wear a pretty dress.  What’s not to love?  GB and I arrive at the wedding and are brutally rebuffed at the bar.  We have to wait until seven p.m. to get a drink?!  How am I going to get rid of my hangover headache?

El Dilector introduces me to Boots’ friend Riotous, who informs us he is about to get nauseatingly shit-faced this evening.

“I think you and I share a common goal,” I tell Riotous.

It’s time for the ceremony so GB and I make our way to our seats.  El Dilector is a groomsman.  His job appears very difficult.  Drink copious amounts of free booze and then stand up during the ceremony, which is about fifteen minutes.  Oh, then he exits and links arms with CutiePie.  Well done. 

Time for champagne!  Yeehaw!

We grab our glasses of champagne and make our way to the reception tent, where we stake a claim on The Lounge.  It’s this awesome little corner with white couches and little tables, perfect for lounging indeed.  El D decides he will stay there all night and not move, as moving might interfere with his drunk.  Thus, I am sent to fetch food and drink.  Because it is free, I can’t complain too loudly, but I do call El D “princess” at some point.

One of the wedding guests who we’ll call Thor has longish hair a lá Riggins from Friday Night Lights.  El D sighs wistfully.  “I wish I had grown my hair out.  I think I missed my chance though.”

“Oh, is that on your bucket list?” GB inquires.

The dancing begins, but GB says he’s not quite ready to get on the floor.  “Two more drinks,” he says.

“Just let me know when you’re ready.  I could dance sober,” I tell him.

“Oh, it’s not that I need liquid courage,” GB says.  “The liquor sort of tones down the gayness a bit.”

He doesn’t get to finish the second drink, though, because “Dancing Queen” comes on and we must dance NOW.  CutiePie, GB and I head for the floor to tear it up.  And we’re pretty good, but when Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” plays, we steal the show.  Everyone on the dance floor clears a space for GB, Daughter (Thor’s sister—children of the preacher!) and me.  This is the first time people can probably see my underwear, as my dress is rather short—okay, it’s maybe inappropriately short—but it won’t be the last.  I think people are probably just happy I actually wore underwear. 

Back at The Lounge, Riotous looks at GB.  “Um, I thought the liquor toned DOWN the gayness.”

GB shrugs.  “That WAS toned down.”

Beyoncé is up next, and I wrinkle my nose.  “Ugh, I hate this song.  It’s just such a terrible message—like, my boyfriend only loves me if he asks me to marry him?  The ring validates my relationship?”

“I think you’re the only person analyzing Beyoncé lyrics,” GB says to me. 

Riotous launches into a tirade about music artists who don’t know what they’re talking about singing about love.  “Like, this Justin Bieber kid—what is he, like 12?   How does he know about love?”

“Who is this Justin Bieber?  I don’t even know what he sings,” El Dilector says.

“You’re too old to hear him,” GB says. "He doesn't sing at a frequency old people like you can hear."

CutiePie is wearing a BlueBell ice cream server hat.  El D wants it.  Apparently he loves hats.  Especially when he’s drunk.

“Don’t be the tie on the head guy,” Riotous says.  “Everyone hates that guy.”

“I have a feeling El D is going to be that guy at some point this evening,” I tell him.

It’s back to the dance floor!  Gotta work off some of the ice cream and amaretto I just consumed.

When I return, El D tells me that people are asking about me. “’Who’s the girl in the pink dress?’ they say, and then I tell them you’re my sister.  Your dancing is the best thing they’ve seen all night.” 

Riotous agrees.  “El D, your sister is hot.  And you know what?  Guys like you should have hot sisters because it will keep you in line once in a while.”

Later the dancing is described as: majesty, beauty, grace and symmetry.  Considering I actually fell down once, and danced right out of my shoes a couple times, the grace might be a stretch, but I’ll take it.

After they kick us out of the reception, we head over to the bar because it’s only 11:30 and who’s ready to quit?  Not until we are nauseatingly shit-faced, people!  Upstairs at the bar, there is more dancing.  Thor’s brother Cowboy and I attempt the lift—you know, from Dirty Dancing?  Yeah, um, that doesn’t work out.  At this point, I am positive everyone has seen my underwear.  In fact, Riotous tells me so.

“I have seen your underwear all freaking night.  What’s with the Superman underwear?”

I, personally, am happy they are boy shorts and not the thongs I am partial to.  There are big hearts printed on them, and upon later examination, they DO sort of look like Superman symbols.

We come home from the bar to the hotel—just like at home in Austin!—and after party.  The bride and groom piñatas are somehow destroyed.  I am not present for this, but I hear they took a tumble down the stairs.  Very sad. 

In the morning, the scene is something like this: sleeping on a rollaway in GB’s room, fully clothed, some type of resin in my hair.  Sort of like glue.  Oh, and I reek of beer, though I didn't drink any. I believe some was spilled on my arms. From the window, I can see that we pretty much destroyed the patio.  There are approximately 15 beer cans, leftover BlueBell ice cream cups, a lighter and assorted trash covering the tables, chairs and floor.  In the hallway, the groom pinata’s face is smashed in.  I find his arm in El D’s room.

GB and I have lunch while we wait for El D to shower.  “We’re not allowed to come back to this town again, are we?” GB asks.

El D arrives in the dining room sporting a man purse and sunglasses.  “I like the sunglasses inside look,” I tell him.  “It’s very Christian Troy.”

“Well, it's because I’m pretty embarrassed about the way I look right now.”

We finish our lunch and gather outside on the sidewalk to say our goodbyes.  Boots is conducting an investigation.  “What HAPPENED last night?” he asks. “Who destroyed the piñatas?”

Luckily, I was not a part of that particular shenanigan.

Nonetheless, Boots says: "You four—you are a dangerous combo,"

He's talking about GB, Riotous, El D and me.  Yeah.  Apparently I am just as much of a degenerate as the boys. It's good to have goals.

-Shakira 04.25.10