Yours truly was one of the eight groomsmen, as were Tony, Ryan, Sam, Erik, Steve, Ken and, checking in with a phonetic nickname, Guilly. Guilly was the one gentleman I didn't have any real fixed memories of, but I am certainly glad to have made his acquaintance---he's good people.
What can I say about Jimmy B getting married? That we're all excited this phase of their lives are beginning? Hell yes. That being asked to stand on a line for a close friend is an honor? Hell yes.
That maybe some of the stories from the weekend---and in general whenever our group of guys get together---should remain in our memories instead of being printed here? Maybe so...
Joe and Kelly came out from Denver, and that added to the awesome flavor of the weekend---we hadn't seem them for years, maybe, since their own wedding in 2011.
Tony has been the connector for me and Joe and Jimmy---a groomsman each time.
*The Unfortunate Incident of the Passat in the Nighttime*
On Saturday, the day before the wedding, there had been a large BBQ out at the refilled Laguna Lake after the rehearsal at a Catholic church up Highland. Only the bridal party needed to be at the church.
A park party BBQ is usually a good time, and there were definitely some beers being enjoyed. But this is Jimmy's party, so there was also plenty of Jameson being enjoyed. Afterward we did some stuff at Jimmy's house--wedding errands are an endless list of lists--and then headed back to town, first to Tony's hotel so he could change, then on to ours so we could change (SLO nights are still 30 degrees less than the days (at least)).
Corrie was driving my car, and after we'd made it to Tony's long pants. we were on Monterrey at the light at Santa Rosa. heading back to our hotel. The car momentarily felt like Corrie had stalled it, that little jitter that happens when you take your foot off the clutch when it's still in gear.
It reminded me of when Norm and I used to bump each other at lights back when we were in our own cars in high school. "Did that guy just hit us?" Corrie asked, "Or...did I stall? The car's still on..."
"Did that fucking guy just hit us?" I was seeing red.
Tony from the back seat, "Think so..."
Our light turned green and we pulled over into a bus stop area just past Santa Rosa. I kinda wanted the driver to take off so we could give chase, but Corrie was driving, and that would have been a colossally bad idea. I noticed the car behind, a newish white Benz pull over as well, and stepped out of the shotgun seat side as the car stopped rolling.
Not that anyone could hear, but I was stepping heavy to the back of the car. When I got there I looked down at the bumper: not a scratch. Not a mark, not a chip, not a dent---nothing. Okay. We could barely feel it inside, no marks here. This may yet prove entertaining.
That all ran through my head in a fraction of a second. I turned to the passenger side of the guys car as the driver stepped out, and I had my arms wide in a What the hell? gesture. The driver approached and I could see he was a young man, probably hadn't graduated yet from Poly.
Being around kids so much now has taught me how to use the I'm a grown-ass man card. "What the fuck is the matter with you!" I yelled at him as he got close. He was visibly rattled.
"Sorry man, my bad, dude, I'm sorry..." the words were coming from someplace inside his reptile brain.
"Were you on your phone?" My tone was a razor blade.
"Yey-auhh," he was incapable of lying.
"Not we both can see there's not a scratch on my car, which is good. But let me tell you what the situation is: my wife is driving my car because I spent all day at the park drinking whiskey and probably shouldn't be driving. My buddy, sitting in the back seat there, also spent the day drinking with me at the park. Now, we have more whiskey in the car--it was a gift. But we were also given really sharp stiletto switchblades, and they're also in the car. So...what do we want to do next?"
He seemed pretty shaken from the whole interaction, so I tried to engage him in conversation a little. Do you go to Poly? What do you study? Is this your parents car? I was curious about that.
The back and forth ended with something like, "So, just be smart, okay? Stop using your phone while you drive. See, because I see you, young, driving a Mercedes, hitting people at stoplights while you're on your phone. You seem like kinda a douche."
"Yeah, yeah I am. Totally...my bad..." I think I might have chuckled when he agreed that he was a douche. At one point he said he was scared shitless, which made it all worth it.
I didn't threaten him, but I probably did menace him a little. I make it sound, in the retellings with the guys and the kids later, more confrontational that it really was. I asked more than those questions and we had a good talk for what it was worth.
***
This seemed like an easy anecdote for the weekend. I bailed pretty good while we were setting up at the vets hall. We danced for solid minutes. We loaded up the truck afterwards while still looking all James Bond, which was pretty sweet.
Some pictures:
These are from Corrie, and she has some other good ones, but I'm not sure where to find them,
Here we are, bump and all, which certainly led to "seeing red" more than the Jameson, of which my own partaking was limited.
Congratulations Jimmy and Christina! May the future be as full of adventure as you need it to be!
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