The Adventure of a Wedding

We all have those friends that you can be away from for a while, but when you meet again down the road it's like you've only been apart five minutes.

As I sit here hung-over, I feel it's a great time to write about a similar experience I had a few weeks ago. Actually, it was a few of them if I'm being honest.

When I got a call from Logan last year, I didn't really know what to think. We had just chatted about him getting married so what else was there?!?! I'm just messing, but it turned out I was going to be a groomsman; a first for me.

After getting over the original shock I remembered I'm moving to London. But, I already knew there was no chance in the world I was missing this one, so I booked my flight and hotel a few weeks after moving. It was going to happen; a Cincinnati wedding in February.

Getting there was no problem. After a layover in Paris and what felt like forever, these transatlantic flights never get shorter, I was finally in Cincinnati.

Side note about my layover in France. I'm pretty sure I don't look French, by any means, but going through security in the airport I had two people start talking to me in French. It went sort of like this. Them: "Bonjour... something in French I couldn't understand." Me: "Bonjour. Sorry I don't speak French, could you repeat that?" The first time it happened, I thought to myself, "Ah, that could happen to anyone." After the second time, I had no idea. Maybe my new look (better clothes and stuff) makes me look French? I digress...

Friday was a blur of fun. The Buchanan’s were in town, along with their lovely fiancés and a lot of other people that I'd met once or twice when they visited us at Purdue.

We ended up drinking quite a lot at the post rehearsal dinner. It reminded me of college to tell you the truth. Obviously because of the people, but more so because of the drinking. We're already quite drunk and someone decides it's a great idea to go to a bourbon bar. Looking back it probably wasn't the best idea.

Since moving to London, everyone here thought it was a great idea to share his or her British accent. It just so happens that when I get drunk enough, I'll pull out my shit British accent.

So we're in this bourbon bar, and I guess Chris and I started a conversation that escalated quickly; all friendly of course, but the people around us didn't know that. After yelling in shit British and half Australian accents we couldn't hold straight faces anymore. The look on people's faces around us was priceless, or so I'm told. It was a mixture of, "Oh shit, this is about to happen. What assholes, they knew each other."

And then it was time to leave. I could go into a good amount of detail on this next part, but let's keep it short. We ended up taking a taxi back to Logan's, and the dude tried to fuck with us on the fare. Obviously we were drunk, but not that drunk.

After a good amount of discussion and being locked in the taxi, a cop showed up, decided to be a good guy, and took us home. I don't think I could have rebuilt the relationship between Michelle if I had been party to the groom's arrest the day before the wedding. In case you didn't know, the back seats of cop cars are extremely small.

Safe to say the next morning was not easy, but we made it to the hotel and found most others in the same state. Getting ready only took us a few minutes; compared to the girls taking about 6 hours.

And then came pictures, which were great. Unfortunately, I had an accident involving a beer bottle. It just so happened the top part of the glass broke off with the bottle top as I opened it. My finger didn't fair too well and ended up bleeding well into the night.

The wedding was great, especially since it was not a religious one. Short, sweet, and to the point.

An amazing reception followed where we proceeded to rip up the dance floor like only we can. I was disappointed we didn't have it longer.

And then it was my last day in the States. If I had known what was in store for me at the airport I would've stayed in Cincinnati a few more days.

Originally, I was flying through Boston, but a huge snowstorm was rolling through. Flight cancelled. I ended up on a United flight and after 6 hours I was on my way to Chicago. After landing we spent 45 minutes on the tarmac making me miss my connection. Really? No gates. It's O’Hare; they should have their shit figured out.

After a "great" conversation with customer service I was on a flight at 4:30pm the next day. I was stuck in Chicago with no luggage. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention they lost that as well.

After a full day of nothing, I was finally off. It was a good flight except United has this annoying policy of reminding you where you sit. I can't tell you how many times I heard, "For those of you in the economy cabin..." Thanks United, I know I'm broke.

I found out they had really lost my bags completely. No one knew where they were or what happened to them. Just my luck.

This was by far the worst experience I've had travelling, and it was right before my trip to Malta (leaving in two days). Jet lagged and a little sick; I'm sure I'll make a great impression.

Until next time...

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