The most memorable wedding we ever attended took place in the fall of 2001 in Southern Louisiana.
It
was twenty minutes before the ceremony and the groom and I were just
hitting our drinking groove at a bar in the Garden District of New
Orleans. They knew us well enough to know what would come if they
continued serving us such stiff drinks, so one of the bartenders
demanded we leave-- after all, she was in her bridesmaid's dress and
was missing half a shift to attend the festivities, so we were wasting
her time.
The groom departed and I was soon left in the
otherwise empty bar with my ride, a local homicide detective we'll call
W. W. was falling off the stool and dropping his car keys, but I knew
he was in total control. "We better hit the road," he mumbled, "The
wedding is in fifteen minutes and it's twenty minutes away..."
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