With two weeks left before the big day, it was time for my future brides bachelorette party. Her maid of honor had sent out the invites and planned something big; something drunk; and something very debauchery-ey. Fortunately, she was smart enough to also plan on a hotel.
So, here I am, having a weekend to myself as my future wife goes and parties hard on the streets of Ybor. Yes, I've seen The Hangover, and yes, I've seen all those bachelor party movies where all kinds of wild shenanigans go down, wild sex happens, and dreams are crushed. I'm not worried!
My fiancee had gone and gotten wigs, she told me so this way I couldn't tell who was doing what if the sacred rule was broken and pictures were shared, but I still was hoping for one thing; that she would have a good time and enjoy a staple of the marriage experience. We both agreed that it's not celebrating you're last night of being single, because we have been in a relationship and not single for nearly a year now. But, it was a way to celebrate our upcoming marriage with the girls or guys in our lives.
So, that afternoon came, as she packed her bags, in anticipation of penis-shaped straws, wigs and craziness. She hugged me and kissed me and told me she would miss me and I told her to not even think about me, to have a great time and live it up. In retrospect, it's good to know she does listen to me on occasion.
It started off good, with Facebook pics, and texts talking about her having a drink and dinner, and fun pics of girls, wigs and condoms. Then, the pics stopped, and I was left with my imagination and an X-box controller. Now, I trust my future wife beyond all reason, and at no point did I ever think she would be anything but true to herself and me. I knew, though, she would punish that liver of hers. I was right. So, I went to bed around midnight, hoping my fiancee was living it up, and not being able to wait to see her the next day so I could hear all about her night of fun. I had gotten really used to sleeping with her, and having the bed to myself was nice, but a bit too quiet for my liking. Then, it happened.
Phone calls at 4 am usually only involve one thing; a call for help. Very little good can come out of a 4 am phone call, so when that phone rings, your body automatically gets in hospital retrieval mode. So, I picked up the phone when I saw the caller I.D. with my fiancee's name to hear a very slurred "helllloooo." My first question was if she was alright, to which she replied "uh huh." So, my body began to calm down, as I tried to figure out the need for a 4 am wake up call. I asked where she was, and she replied with a long, slurred "leaving shfor the shotellll." I asked where her maid of honor was, and she said she was paying the bill and they would head to the hotel. At this point, I was relieved, as it was pretty obvious she had a good time, or atleast copious amounts of alcohol. "So, did you have a good time" I finally asked. I get another "uh huh, but I want to go hooommee." Back to panic I go. "What's the matter, my love?" As I hear silence, some booty music and finally a slurred response of "nothing, I just missssss you." So, I finally relaxed again, because the call was a simple drunk dial. She was thinking about me on her bachelorette party, that's pretty amazing. I told her that's what she had a hotel for, and to call me when she got there, so I knew she was alright. She said "shokay," and that was that.
4:30 - I had gone back to sleep, and was once again woken to the sound of my phone. Of course your body still thinks something is wrong, as I tried to reassure myself it was just a check in call. It was my fiancee telling me she was at the hotel, but she was pissed I wasn't there too. I told her that I was at home, and it was a 40 minute drive to her, which means there was no way I could get to her even if I needed to. There were a few slurred obscenities, with her saying that I better come and get her before she cut me. That's when her maid of honor picked up saying she was fine, they had fun, and she was busy praying to the porcelain gods, and that they were going to bed now. I told her that she was thinking about me on her bachelorette party, so that's a good sign, and she she agreed, and I thanked her for taking care of the love of my life.
After another 10 calls, with drunk obscenities, asking for me to pick her up, and the maid of honor apologizing for letting her have the phone, I get one more call. It started off with a commotion, the sound of an elbow dropping and my drunk fiancee whispering "I'm just gonna tell him goodnight, gosh!" I then get a quiet, un-fiesty cuban tell me that she loves me and misses me and that she was going to bed, and the quiet, calm, sweet demeaner calmed me down, and made me happy. Then, there was silence, the silence before the storm. I get a text from the maid of honor saying she was so sorry...that's not a good sign. Then, it happened; Cuban-laced, drunk obscenities about how I left her and how she was going to kill me, and some other stuff I didn't really understand, before the sounds of amateur-style wrestling and the maid of honor saying "I'm taking away her phone, she loves you, good night." It's these things that I love about my wife, I never know what to expect, and she always keeps life interesting.
The next morning, I woke, had my coffee with a small smile, knowing that I was faring way better than my better half was before getting a text saying "I'm so sorry about last night. I hope you don't hate me." I smiled, because in the end, it was entertaining, and it was the reason I wanted to marry her, because she is never boring (and she's really hot, but that's not important right now). I was also happy that it was pretty obvious she had a good time, despite the sad looking, hungover Cuban that came through the door.
In the end, she had a great time, it was another huge step in the marriage process, and she was safe. I told you I had nothing to worry about! And, here, you were doubting me!
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