18 February 2011

Wedding Blitzed

Wonders never cease to amaze me, like how good a person looks after 6 hours of a top shelf open bar at a wedding reception when love is in the air and even the guy who couldn’t manage to pay someone from craigslist to come as his date seems like a really nice guy who’s funny, awesome, the best white dancer outside of footloose and the next Mr. Right (or at least hopefully Mr. Right Now).

It was 4 years ago at a family wedding and my table was appropriately positioned right in front of the heavy handed bartender which allowed me to bust out my finest talent of double/triple fisting cocktails – after all, in these tough economic times I needed to ensure said family member was getting the most bang for the buck & if all went well maybe I’d get a bang out of this night yet.

Eye on the prize – I found ‘that guy’ who was the only single friend in a myriad of couples faking happiness. We played the flirty routine and with just a few songs left, we finally got to talking, well it was more like slurring after that amount of booze. I hadn't planned on going back to the hotel since I lived nearby but decided since the offer was extended, I’d accept and worry about how to get home the next day. It was going to be perfect, he didn't want a girlfriend, I didn’t want a boyfriend – just a little bit of fun. We’re back at the hotel bar with the rest of the wedding party totally engrossed in the soft-core porn make out/groping session going on with everyone laughing at us and probably documenting the moment on their respective Sony cybershots – but it didn’t matter because we ‘got each other’ – that ‘in the moment connection’ was totally there.

Then there was the glass shattering event of the newly betrothed coming in not really feeling the love of each other and had their first marital blow up in front of us all, then sat there trying to tolerate each other for the rest of the after party – all erections were lost in the room. Boy toy and I tried to rekindle that lust from the beginning of the steam session but it was a no go; he was on damage control with the groom and I with the bride. There was no happily ever after for the next few hours to be had, no wedding story hook up for the resume: just another night that ended with a ‘coulda, woulda, shoulda’ scenario – the ultimate buzz kill.

We did the call/text thing for a few weeks but without all the liquid courage and infamous beer goggles, the magic wasn’t there and he faded into the ‘irrelevant’ column. Within a few weeks of the communication fading away, Mr. Non-Committal managed to screw up his attempted pre-existing ‘fuck buddy only’ arrangement with his suburbanite lust and got her pregnant. They are now living the faux-lifestyle of the mediocre and content re-enacting that same tolerance for each other that the newly married had on that oh so magical night we met.

Point of the conversation: Dodging a bullet is sometimes even simpler than the condom not breaking.

- Scarlett

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