Will humiliate self for blog fodder
Ms. Fussypants had a clip of a comedian poking fun at AC/DC today. I told her to ask me about my first wedding AC/DC story next time we had dinner. Thinking about it made me chuckle and I thought “What the heck, I don’t have anything else to post today!”
Let me set the scene a bit here. About a decade ago, I married Mr. Wrong-For-Me. Who knew? Apparently everyone except me but that is another story entirely. We did the whole shebang – big white dress, veil, cake and all. We are both of Scottish descent so he wanted the guys to wear kilts. The kilt thing was a little out of the ordinary in rural Ohio a decade ago. I see more and more weddings with that theme now in my home town but hadn’t heard of many back then.
I have only one physical photo from the wedding – it is of my father and I. My mom has one of her and I. And I have a couple scanned on my laptop which is in the Geek Squad hospital. I think my ex burned the rest. But I scanned this one (ignore the poor quality – I have no idea how to use the scanner) to set the scene for you:
Trust me. It is much funnier if you can picture me in full bridal regalia for the rest of the story.
For weeks, my ex was talking about going across the street from the reception hall to a favorite bar after the reception wound down. I vetoed that idea – it was our wedding night! But after a few bottles glasses of champagne, I told him if I could buy a pack of cigarettes, we could all go over to the bar. (I had promised to quit on our wedding day.) So he bought me smokes and the wedding party was off. Girls in bridesmaid dresses, guys in kilts, me in the big white freaking dress and veil (it was superglued to my head with hairspray I think). In we walk to a very casual sports bar – quite the site.
There was a band playing that night and the place was packed. Everyone wanted to buy us drinks. I was flat out drunk at this point. My ex looked around and said to some friends “have you seen my wife?” and they pointed at the stage. There I am, on stage with the band in front of a couple hundred people, in my wedding dress, beer in one hand, cigarette in the other, belting out AC/DC ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ into the mic with the lead singer (I CAN NOT sing). I’m the epitome of class, am I not?