Wedding Drunks: Part One. (Originally Published July 24, 2010)

Welcome to the vacation edition edition of Mitch Being Honest. Actually its more of a stay-cation edition seeing as the Mitch family is not really going anywhere. We were supposed to head out east with my family but seeing as Mrs. Mitch’s career search took longer than initially anticipated it was decided that a long trip out east was not financially viable nor smart. Curse my financially responsible ways! Today we have a wedding to go to, Mrs. Mitch’s little sister is getting married today. 

Today I will be experiencing a new milestone. A journey into uncharted waters, to parts unknown if you will. Due to the fact I am on lithium this will be my first wedding I attend and remain stone cold sober, with the obvious exception of any weddings I was dragged to as a kid. That would make weddings more interesting wouldn’t it? A bunch of drunk ten year olds who can’t hold their liquor? Then the switchblades would come out and it would be like “West Side Story” with a bunch of blitzed fifth grade midgets. Actually it’s not really not that far of a stretch really, most people act like retarded ten year old’s when they’re inebriated anyways. Seeing as I can’t drink I’m going to have to find new ways to amuse myself when I’m at the wedding, so far I’ve come up with:

When someone asks what I do for a living I’ll respond that I write Harlequin romance novels under the pen name “Velvet Santiago.”

I’ll randomly start a story with “So this one time I woke up face down on the hood of my neighbours SUV with no pants on…”

When asked how I know the family I’ll respond that I’m a gigolo who goes by the name of “Lance Roderick” and one of Mrs. Mitch’s aunt’s hired me for the night. 15% off couples tonight only!

I love weddings.You get food, you get to socialize, you get to dance , you get to drink cheap and you get to see people at their best and worst behaviour at the exact same time. Throw in some liquor and its better than free boobies. On that note:

Mitch’s Top Ten Favourite Wedding Drunks.

1. Lost Virility: The just on the cusp of being considered middle aged married uncle who still thinks spiked hair is cool, trying to regain lost youth with a soused twenty year old bridesmaid with obvious daddy issues. Watching those two embarrass themselves on the dance floor to Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” is like watching a German porno for the first time. Both equally awe inspiring and disgusting at the exact same time. 

2. Random Tears: There’s always that one random crying drunk woman at weddings who for some inexplicable reason is crying about the most arbitrary things. “They don’t make eight track cassettes anymore!” I can’t take credit for this one, Grandma Mitch actually heard this one and I’m not certain it was uttered at a wedding but I’m borrowing it because it’s funny as hell.

3. Youth Gone Wild: There’s always that one older cousin or uncle who thinks it’s a good idea to get drinks for the table of fourteen year olds. Teenagers have no pacing when it comes to drinking or masturbation, they try to get it done as fast as possible and have no concept of going the distance. Half an hour later you’re outside the hall grabbing a breath of fresh air wondering where all the piles of Jagermeister smelling vomit have come from.

4. Poking Punctuator:  The drunk who feels the need to poke you with their finger to accentuate their words of their story. Mrs. Mitch inspired this joke. One time we were out on a date night and she had about a gallon of cheap wine, and for some reason started poking me while she was talking. “Then (poke) I said (poke) that (poke) I wouldn’t (poke) put up (poke) with those She-(Poke)-Nan-(Poke)-I-(Poke)-Gans (Poke) (Poke).”

5. Creepy Auntie: There’s always that one middle aged in-law aunt who after a bottle of chablis will try and regain that lost sexual appeal she had in her twenties by hitting on you with some really uncomfortable passive aggressive advances. “So… (isn’t it funny that the word “so” could be disturbing depending on how you say it?) So… are you taking “good care” of my niece…” (as she breaks the touch barrier and runs a finger up my forearm. Meanwhile I’m desperately scanning the room for Mrs. Mitch to come rescue me. “You know you were just my type twenty years ago.” Oh god, her hand is on my bicep now! Where the hell is Mrs. Mitch? Meanwhile I’m thinking “I saw a porno start like this once, and this is not as awesome as I thought it would be. This is downright unsettling. Did porno exaggerate? Why would porno lie to me like that?”

To be continued….

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