It's here. You can tell exactly what is going to be inside that envelope by looking at that all-too-familiar swoopy calligraphy font and tiny green vines that form the image of a heart. It's the first day of spring, and that means your mailbox is about to get a lot more of these in the coming weeks.
You take your letter opener and tear open the dreaded [[wedding invite]].Yep. Florida.''WHO'' has a destination wedding in Florida? You let out an audible groan and think of excuses that might get you out of this. You could say that work is much too busy, but they know you get summers off. August might be a great time to do some home renovations that you'd need to be here to supervise, but you rent and they know it. Finding somebody to take the kids might be a real challenge... but you don't have any.
[[You RSVP 'No']]
[[You RSVP 'Yes']]Nice try! We both know there's no getting out of this. Close your eyes and think of all the IOU gifts you have been racking up over the years between house warmings, babyshowers, and weddings. You're resigned. You'll go, you'll eat some shrimp cocktail and canapés, try and drink your weight at the bar and book your own accomodations at some hotel that isn't five-stars.
Your phone rings. You answer it, and ''suprise''! It's the bride! You offer up the usual compliments at the stellar invite front choice and venue location.
"So, will you be in the wedding party?"
"Pardon? I think I just hallucinated."
"Haha! You're so funny! Be in the wedding party?"
[[Say yes]]
[[No fucking way]]"Of course I will be in the wedding party. It would be such a great honour." Lies. Lies. Lies.
Moments after you hang up, the phone rings again. When you pick up the receiver this time, you are greeted with the ''very'' enthusiastic voice of the maid of honour to get cracking on the bachelorette party.
[[It's held at a cottage in Muskoka]]
[[It's held in Vegas]]Well, you did this to yourself. You're here, in Florida, at an event hall and sat at a table that is clearly for all the //discard// friends. You've got a second cousin, a handful of work friends who don't seem to know each other and two couples who identify themselves as 'friends of the family'. On the other hand, you've saved yourself about three grand on various pre and post wedding events that are reserved for the wedding party.
Yes, the chicken is dry but the [[bartender]] can pour a double and drink service is fast.You pull up to the massive 3-storey cottage that's been rented. It's more of a mansion with bathrooms that are roughly half the size of your apparment. The view from the dock is breathtaking and this group of ladies seems really fun. You feel yourself start to relax and think that this might turn out to be a great weekend.
After you've spent some time on the dock, had dinner, and made the bride play an embarrasing game, somebody reaches into her purse and pulls out a little baggy filled with what looks like dried fruit that starts getting passed around.
"What are those?"
"Shrooms."
[[You take one. What could go wrong?]]
[[You decline. Somebody has to babysit]].You get on the plane and settle into your seat in coach. A bunch of the girls splurged on first class and boarded long before you. As you slip on your earphones and lay back, somebody taps you on the shoulder.
"We need your help at the front of the plane! She hates to fly and took an Ativan that's hitting her hard."
"Wait. What? Who?"
You hustle to the first class section and see the bride spread out across the aisle in what appears to be a deep sleep. With a little teamwork, you hoist her back to her seat, strap her in and pull a big sunhat low over her face. Thank goodness the flight isn't too long. You'll reach [[your destination]] in no time.This bartender looks amazing. You're not sure if those whiskey sours are playing any part in impeding your judgement. You fully intend to be one of the last on the dance floor tonight and will time your exit with when he finishes his shift.
You are the real winner tonight.Everything goes wrong.
[[The bride dissapears]]
[[The fire department comes]]The party winds down at 6AM. You successfully stopped everyone from attempting to swim across the lake in the dead of night, you heroically made mini pizza snacks because you didn't trust anyone else with a knife and had a to convince a number of strangers you'd just met that morning that there wasn't a face in the fire place. In retrospect it was a bad idea to tell a ghost story.
You collapse onto the bottom bunk bed in one of the guest rooms [[exhausted]]. That weekend was a total disaster, but you soldiered through and the big day is finally here. You put on your incredibly frilly dress in the rather unflattering shade of green that washes you out and make your way to the hall.
When you round the corner and see the bride, your bitterness over the last few months evaporates. The bachelorette sucked, your dress is horrendous and Florida is still not your favourite place to be, but she looks great. Your eyes meet and you smile.Everyone tries to rally the next day, but Sunday is decidedly more tame. You duck out early afternoon before you get stuck with the task of doing all the dishes.
You stop for an extra large coffee on the way to [[your destination]]. It's heaven. Things don't start out so bad. At first, we're all happy to sit at the edge of the dock and put our feet in the water. Somebody suggests we go for a nature walk and stargaze. It's the middle of the night, and none of us have any idea where we're going. After what feels like hours (but in reality was 10 minutes) we realize our group is slightly smaller. We have lost the bride in the woods.
Everyone screams. We begin shouting out her name with desperation into the dark. A neighour who is up at the cottage next door hears us and calls the cops.
It turns out the bride wasn't interested in walking through the woods at nigt and simply let herself back into the cottage and fell asleep. At 6AM, after the adrenaline wears off from speaking with the police and feeling very sheepish, you fall asleep on a couch [[exhausted]].Things don't start out so bad. At first, we're all happy to sit at the edge of the dock and put our feet in the water. We go for a nature walk and listen to some 90s music before it's suggested that we have a séance to ask if there's any spirit from the bride's past who wants to contact her. Some candles are placed in a circle around the kitchen floor and we all sit and hold hands. Before anyone can even ask a question, the bride starts to cry over our blasphemous behaviour and rushes to get to her feet. She knocks over a candle and we all begin to scream. A neighbour in the cottage next door calls 991 after hearing us. The police and a fire truck arrive shortly after.
At 6AM, after answering a policeman's questions and feeling very sheepish, you fall asleep on a couch [[exhausted]].