Sunday, June 8, 2008


Wedding reception with a playlist stuck in the 80's: Grease Lightening, Saturday Night Fever, and a finale of New York, New York. I don't get it. What is also perplexing is the row boat thing. It seems they do this in a lot of British weddings. They sit on the floor in a single line and pretend to rock the boat. Hurm...

When I get married, I just want a small intimate sit down dinner with immediate family. Just enjoy good food, good company, and get to know one another without screaming each other down over blaring cheesey music. Possibly a swing band for dancing. Simple, nice, classy.

But I digress! Craig and I were buzzed out of our minds after pints of guinness, white russians, baileys, and some mysterious green liquid in a shot glass. We left the reception. On the way there, I was complaining because I had to walk 10 miles on uneven pavement in heels. Hard to get a cab at this hour. Craig just stopped me on the street and gave me a passionate kiss. I melted. He probably just did it to shut me He wanted to carry me home but I was afraid he would break his back so I endured the pain.

We went home and looked up places on the net for take aways that deliver at 2am. Shit out of luck about this town. Very few places are open at wee hours of the night. With my elephantastic memory and search engine skills, I found a kebab place on Botanic Avenue that delivers until 4am. In just 15 minutes, we were stuffing pakora and kebabs with chili sauce down our fat necks.

When we were finished, we stripped off our clothes and devoured each other on the couch.

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