Bach—or was it Beethoven?—vibrating through the pews from a string quartet set up in the front left corner of the sanctuary.
Several minutes later, the music gently morphed to the familiar strains of Pachelbel's Canon—familiar because, in her late twenties, she'd attended more weddings than she could now count on both hands—and the processional began. Erin plastered the smile on her face again, stood, and pivoted with the rest of the congregation as the unfamiliar woman in white stepped down the aisle on her father's arm.
Beside her, Nate's face went as pale as the bride's gown.
* * *
April 19: Date 2
Name: Nick*
Age: 31
Job: Researcher
List: Ruin someone's life…or at least his day (aka, No. 8: Crash a wedding)**
OMG. OMG. OMG. I've never had a date like that before. I cannot wait to tell you what happened last night.
I went out with a friend of a friend. Since I sort of knew him already, I decided I'd ask this guy to help me do one of the weirder items on my list: stage a real-life version of "Wedding Crashers." Why is that on my list? Well, I don't know. I just thought it'd be kind of funny. (Repeat: I was drinking heavily when said list was made.)
So anyway, it was kind of funny. But the joke was on me. Why, oh why, didn't I think about the fact that if I crashed a wedding in Dallas, I might know some of the people there? I did, as a matter of fact, but as it turned out I didn't know anyone as well as my date did.
We'd made it to the ceremony and it was all, so far, so good. No one gave us funny looks or questioned our right to be there. I'd even made small talk with the people sitting next to us in the pew. When the doors at the back opened and the bridesmaids started walking in, I felt Nick* stiffen beside me. Honestly he looked a little green. By the time the bride walked in the room, his face had turned this pasty white color and I was scared he was going to pass out. "What's wrong?" I asked him. "Nothing," he said. He recovered himself, but he was sweating bullets and I swear, I felt like he was going to bolt out the back door through the entire ceremony.
When the wedding ended, we walked out of the church with everybody else. We were down the steps and almost to the sidewalk headed to the car—Nick was walking so fast he was practically pulling me, and as soon as we were alone I was planning to force him to tell me what the hell was going on—when this older woman stopped in her tracks right in front of us. "Nick?!?" she said, her mouth hanging open. She was wearing a floor-length, mint green satin dress and a corsage. I realized pretty quickly that it was the bride's mom. I have to admit, my first thought was, "Oh, shit, we've been found out."
Nick has a completely awkward conversation with this woman. Small talk for a while: "What have you been up to these last few years," "How's your family," that sort of thing, and then she gives him a hug. I deduce through the course of this, and he confirms in the car afterward, that he and the bride, Emily*, had gone out—for four and a half years. He was the first boy she'd ever slept with, and he'd cheated on her. Boy, did he! It was their freshman year of college and they were at different schools. She'd come for a surprise visit and walked in on him in his dorm room with another girl, buck freaking naked. They'd been engaged.
Yeah. Seriously. What a dog.
So he hasn't talked to her in NINE YEARS, and then he turns up at her wedding. I felt awful for him. Before we made it to the car two other people stopped him, and he had conversations with the bride's cousin and her aunt. Turns out he'd gone on family vacations with this girl and everything. Since there was absolutely no way to explain why he was there, thanks to me and my list he'll pretty much never live this down. He'll always be the guy who never got over Emily.
You'd think maybe he'd never talk to me again, but actually he
Several minutes later, the music gently morphed to the familiar strains of Pachelbel's Canon—familiar because, in her late twenties, she'd attended more weddings than she could now count on both hands—and the processional began. Erin plastered the smile on her face again, stood, and pivoted with the rest of the congregation as the unfamiliar woman in white stepped down the aisle on her father's arm.
Beside her, Nate's face went as pale as the bride's gown.
* * *
April 19: Date 2
Name: Nick*
Age: 31
Job: Researcher
List: Ruin someone's life…or at least his day (aka, No. 8: Crash a wedding)**
OMG. OMG. OMG. I've never had a date like that before. I cannot wait to tell you what happened last night.
I went out with a friend of a friend. Since I sort of knew him already, I decided I'd ask this guy to help me do one of the weirder items on my list: stage a real-life version of "Wedding Crashers." Why is that on my list? Well, I don't know. I just thought it'd be kind of funny. (Repeat: I was drinking heavily when said list was made.)
So anyway, it was kind of funny. But the joke was on me. Why, oh why, didn't I think about the fact that if I crashed a wedding in Dallas, I might know some of the people there? I did, as a matter of fact, but as it turned out I didn't know anyone as well as my date did.
We'd made it to the ceremony and it was all, so far, so good. No one gave us funny looks or questioned our right to be there. I'd even made small talk with the people sitting next to us in the pew. When the doors at the back opened and the bridesmaids started walking in, I felt Nick* stiffen beside me. Honestly he looked a little green. By the time the bride walked in the room, his face had turned this pasty white color and I was scared he was going to pass out. "What's wrong?" I asked him. "Nothing," he said. He recovered himself, but he was sweating bullets and I swear, I felt like he was going to bolt out the back door through the entire ceremony.
When the wedding ended, we walked out of the church with everybody else. We were down the steps and almost to the sidewalk headed to the car—Nick was walking so fast he was practically pulling me, and as soon as we were alone I was planning to force him to tell me what the hell was going on—when this older woman stopped in her tracks right in front of us. "Nick?!?" she said, her mouth hanging open. She was wearing a floor-length, mint green satin dress and a corsage. I realized pretty quickly that it was the bride's mom. I have to admit, my first thought was, "Oh, shit, we've been found out."
Nick has a completely awkward conversation with this woman. Small talk for a while: "What have you been up to these last few years," "How's your family," that sort of thing, and then she gives him a hug. I deduce through the course of this, and he confirms in the car afterward, that he and the bride, Emily*, had gone out—for four and a half years. He was the first boy she'd ever slept with, and he'd cheated on her. Boy, did he! It was their freshman year of college and they were at different schools. She'd come for a surprise visit and walked in on him in his dorm room with another girl, buck freaking naked. They'd been engaged.
Yeah. Seriously. What a dog.
So he hasn't talked to her in NINE YEARS, and then he turns up at her wedding. I felt awful for him. Before we made it to the car two other people stopped him, and he had conversations with the bride's cousin and her aunt. Turns out he'd gone on family vacations with this girl and everything. Since there was absolutely no way to explain why he was there, thanks to me and my list he'll pretty much never live this down. He'll always be the guy who never got over Emily.
You'd think maybe he'd never talk to me again, but actually he
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