Worst Ever Wedding Date (by Katie)Posted by Guest Author - 23/11/10 at 08:11 am
Normally we would have a Jess on Tap on a Tuesday morning, full of wisdom and sass. Jess, however, is not feeling great today and so therefore we figured: “Why not? Let’s post a bad date story instead!” and voila, here you go! So we turn it over to Katie, on of our favorite Philly writers, with a story from hell via a wedding. Dun dun dun DUN….
My story isn’t as much a date as it is a family wedding gone terribly, terribly wrong. I took my long-term (now ex) boyfriend to my cousins wedding, thinking this was a great way for my boo to meet my extended family & spend a little quality time taking a roadtrip to Wisconsin together. WRONG…in so many ways.
Let me start off by saying, my great grandmother continually called my boyfriend my ex-boyfriend’s name (I mean she is 96 but c’mon gram you’re killin’ me!) Anyway, that was probably one of the least concerning aspects of the weekend. Upon our arrival we were greeted with the news that the hotel was overbooked-leaving my boyfriend & I to shack up with my parents for the weekend…at least it’s a 2 room suite? Major bummer-for obvious reasons. Strike #1.
Anyway, the ceremony was short & sweet (just how I like them) leaving us more time to party at the reception, woowoo open bar!! We started the evening off with celebratory champagne, followed by a few beers, and ultimately ended in tequila shots. I know, I know, what was I thinking?! But it’s a wedding & I wanted to celebrate the new nuptials!
I was in a sassy strapless green, satiny dress that was a little short in my mom’s opinion but I thought it was cute- & very appropriate for the sunny Labor Day weekend we spent on Lake Michigan. It wasn’t exactly the best dress for dancing however, seeing as my date had to perpetually pull up the front so as to not flash all of the guests. Strike #2.
As if my overly excited dancing wasn’t embarrassing or inappropriate enough, my dad, whose dance moves rival Kevin James from Hitch, started the “circle of embarrassment” as I like to call it. You know, where everyone circles up, then there’s that one person in the middle borrowing moves from the Village People who’s giving you secondhand embarassment? I somehow got dragged into that with my date & pulled out a couple dance moves I’d prefer my family never to witness me doing…EVER. I was a little over-served to notice and my date was…well, mortified. Strike #3.
I took a few more shots to null the embarrassment and forget about the fact that I’d face my overly-conservative aunt at brunch in the morning. What happened the rest of the night is a little foggy but ultimately resulted in my parents discovering me relieving myself in a bush with my date by my side (classy!) trying to get me to the restrooms inside and steered away from the bar. Strike #…are we still counting?
I’d imagine you think I’m done by now, seeing as I’m out of strikes (and my mind) but, we left the reception shortly after that due to my um, inebriated state. Did the madness stop here? Unfortunately, no. After returning to the “couples” hotel room consisting of myself, my boyfriend, and my parents where I proceeded to get a little somethin’ somethin’ to happen. I won’t go into detail here but it did NOT go well. Strike #oh whatever.
WORST DATE EVER. Not sure if these 3 words describe the experience or myself but in any event, I was greeted in the morning to an angry boyfriend, a killer hangover, and my parents questioning over a wrinkled brow “Do you remember last night Katherine?” Um, not vividly thank god. The lesson to learn here? Steer clear of the open bar.