syd
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Feb 18, 2005
- Messages
- 273
You are jerked to a stop as your tires hit the cement curb in front of the small church, stereo blaring. You take the small bottle from your jacket and have a good hit.
But Christ it’s hot out here, you think taking the last drag of your cigarette. You will have to keep your jacket on throughout the ceremony as the sweat has already soaked through your white dress shirt.
You try and flip the cigarette out the window forgetting that for once you remembered to put it up before you turned the engine off. Ash and pieces of burning tobacco exploded off the closed window onto your tux and the seat of her BMW. You jump out banging you head on the frame, cursing and brushing the fire from yourself first, then the seat. You stare at her cream colored leather interior and two obvious black burn holes stare back at you.
No hiding that, you think and slam the car door. This will be a particularly nasty argument you can look forward to later.
You start towards the entrance of the church and get about half way before you trot back and grab the keys you left in the ignition. You start in again, but turn back and grab the poorly wrapped gift from the back seat of her car. You where supposed to have it wrapped at some gift store, but didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of her couch and had instead wrapped the white box in some old birthday paper you found in her closet, hoping it would come off as cute.
You open the glass doors and place the oddly wrapped gift next to the others, now feeling stupid for not having it professionally wrapped. You can already see her standing in the hall, silhouetted by the sunlight from doors at the opposite end.
Oh my god! Where have you been, she says almost running toward you, using a really excited but still in a church voice.
They are almost ready to st_ You’re fucked up aren’t you?
No, I jus_
I can smell it on you! Jesus baby, I can’t believe you! You look like shit, she says as she begins to brush the ash and lint from your black tux.
My sister’s fucking wedding!
As she is saying this in the loudest voice she has yet to risk, the brushing quickly turns to slapping on your chest and shoulders. In your impaired state the slapping forces you a step back and you stumble over your own shinny black shoes. You almost go down but steady yourself against the wall. She throws up her hands and spins around in a small circle.
I can’t believe you, she says again.
It’s wedding right? Party_
We’re in a fucking church. This is not funny. Only my boyfriend would think its ok to come to church drunk. Only you would even consider this to be normal behavior. What is wrong with you, she pleads.
Hey, I’m sorry, you say reaching for her. I didn’t mean_
You never mean to do anything. Stay here. I’ve got to find you some gum or mouthwash or something. You smell like a fucking still.
Wiping the sweat from you forehead and looking down at the pin hole burns in your white shirt, you think for a moment about stepping outside for another smoke, but she is back shoving pieces of gum into your mouth before you can decide.
Chew it!
I’m trying, you say through a ridiculously large mouth full of wintergreen.
She fixes your tux in places you hadn’t even noticed and combs your hair with her hand as best she can.
You’re like a fucking child.
You don’t respond to her party because you don’t want to and mostly because you would never get the words out through the mass of gum.
Just don’t talk to anyone. That should be easy enough for you. I can’t believe you, she whispers for a third time while picking invisible lint from you black dress pants.
She straightens herself and looks you over again, clearly unsatisfied.
Go to the last door on the left. All the other groomsmen are waiting. Everyone’s waiting. God, you still fucking reek.
I’m sorry, you say inaudibly.
You both start off in opposite directions. You get almost to the last door of the left then jog back down the hall trying to catch her.
Baby, you say after taking the wad of gum out.
She turns and glares at you.
Is it an open bar for the reception? Cause I forgot my...
She widens her eyes and slightly shakes her head from side to side in an act of utter astonishment. She walks away to wherever it is she is supposed to be without answering you.
You toss the gum into one of the steel trash cans, and take the small bottle from your jacket. You stare at it then look longingly at the sunlight pouring in from the glass doors, thinking briefly of just skipping the whole thing. Instead you slide the small bottle back into you jacket and open the door to where all the groomsmen are waiting.
But Christ it’s hot out here, you think taking the last drag of your cigarette. You will have to keep your jacket on throughout the ceremony as the sweat has already soaked through your white dress shirt.
You try and flip the cigarette out the window forgetting that for once you remembered to put it up before you turned the engine off. Ash and pieces of burning tobacco exploded off the closed window onto your tux and the seat of her BMW. You jump out banging you head on the frame, cursing and brushing the fire from yourself first, then the seat. You stare at her cream colored leather interior and two obvious black burn holes stare back at you.
No hiding that, you think and slam the car door. This will be a particularly nasty argument you can look forward to later.
You start towards the entrance of the church and get about half way before you trot back and grab the keys you left in the ignition. You start in again, but turn back and grab the poorly wrapped gift from the back seat of her car. You where supposed to have it wrapped at some gift store, but didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of her couch and had instead wrapped the white box in some old birthday paper you found in her closet, hoping it would come off as cute.
You open the glass doors and place the oddly wrapped gift next to the others, now feeling stupid for not having it professionally wrapped. You can already see her standing in the hall, silhouetted by the sunlight from doors at the opposite end.
Oh my god! Where have you been, she says almost running toward you, using a really excited but still in a church voice.
They are almost ready to st_ You’re fucked up aren’t you?
No, I jus_
I can smell it on you! Jesus baby, I can’t believe you! You look like shit, she says as she begins to brush the ash and lint from your black tux.
My sister’s fucking wedding!
As she is saying this in the loudest voice she has yet to risk, the brushing quickly turns to slapping on your chest and shoulders. In your impaired state the slapping forces you a step back and you stumble over your own shinny black shoes. You almost go down but steady yourself against the wall. She throws up her hands and spins around in a small circle.
I can’t believe you, she says again.
It’s wedding right? Party_
We’re in a fucking church. This is not funny. Only my boyfriend would think its ok to come to church drunk. Only you would even consider this to be normal behavior. What is wrong with you, she pleads.
Hey, I’m sorry, you say reaching for her. I didn’t mean_
You never mean to do anything. Stay here. I’ve got to find you some gum or mouthwash or something. You smell like a fucking still.
Wiping the sweat from you forehead and looking down at the pin hole burns in your white shirt, you think for a moment about stepping outside for another smoke, but she is back shoving pieces of gum into your mouth before you can decide.
Chew it!
I’m trying, you say through a ridiculously large mouth full of wintergreen.
She fixes your tux in places you hadn’t even noticed and combs your hair with her hand as best she can.
You’re like a fucking child.
You don’t respond to her party because you don’t want to and mostly because you would never get the words out through the mass of gum.
Just don’t talk to anyone. That should be easy enough for you. I can’t believe you, she whispers for a third time while picking invisible lint from you black dress pants.
She straightens herself and looks you over again, clearly unsatisfied.
Go to the last door on the left. All the other groomsmen are waiting. Everyone’s waiting. God, you still fucking reek.
I’m sorry, you say inaudibly.
You both start off in opposite directions. You get almost to the last door of the left then jog back down the hall trying to catch her.
Baby, you say after taking the wad of gum out.
She turns and glares at you.
Is it an open bar for the reception? Cause I forgot my...
She widens her eyes and slightly shakes her head from side to side in an act of utter astonishment. She walks away to wherever it is she is supposed to be without answering you.
You toss the gum into one of the steel trash cans, and take the small bottle from your jacket. You stare at it then look longingly at the sunlight pouring in from the glass doors, thinking briefly of just skipping the whole thing. Instead you slide the small bottle back into you jacket and open the door to where all the groomsmen are waiting.
