Within forty-eight hours of getting back from America, I was headlong into my brother's wedding. Headlong is an apt description as though I'd spent much of that forty-eight hours trying to adjust my body-clock, I was still feeling a bit off balance - and that was before any of the alcohol.
Though the temperatures back in 'Blighty' were nowhere near those of the US, the day remained sunny and warm. I always enjoy a good excuse to get washed and bushed up and though I've yet to see any of the official photos taken on the day, the few images of me that I've seen don't seem to have broken any camera lenses thus far. It's been years since I'd seen several of Steve's friends and there were plenty of people I'd never met before. But the wedding, in the early afternoon, went off without a hitch, or rather just the intended one. Steve and Lynn looked deliriously happy - and that was before any of the alcohol.
The reception saw all the guests sat at themed tables, all labelled after fiction genres (with Steve now being a successful authour in his own right, it was an inspired idea. There were crime dramas, romance, thrillers... and it was probably somewhat apt that - if memory serves me right - the table to my left was sci-fi and to the right was erotica. Naturally... I was at the fantasy table (Is that good? Who is trying to tell me something and what are they trying to tell me?). My fellow fantasists were: Ruth, Cassie and Mark and Robert and we quickly compared notes...
The reception went on until late afternoon, with embarssing photos of Steve growing up and a great speech from the best man... who was, of course, a woman. The reception gave way to general socialising and while my parentals left early evening, I decided to tempt face and enjoy the dance/disco. I'm not much of a dancer... I have two left everything... but in the end I managed to look like I wasn't TOTALLY useless... and that was before any of the alcohol.
Thankfully Steve, Lynn, Ruth et al were on the dance-floor too and by that time no-one cared if we were Strictly Come dancers or not.I'd planned to go home around midnight, but needed to unwind more and shake off some of the cobwebs of the trip. After the disco packed up at around 1:00, those who were left standing collapsed into the bar where we set the world to rights until around 4:00am... at which point I accepted the kind offer of a spare pillow and some blankets and got my head down for what was left of the night... Come the morning and there were many sore heads...and, yes, it can't be denied: that was after all of the alcohol.
