2002-05-20 - 7:44 p.m.
I'm sore all over. I guess it is to be expected after 3 days of volley shark, kilt wearing, dancing to songs with the word "jump" in the title, sleeping on couches, and so much red red wine.
It began this past Friday. A group of friends and strangers from all over the globe meeting at a ritzy beach house with the common agenda of celebrating a union; the wedding of my pal Marko and his lovely cool funky fresh bride.
I arrived around 1:30, which was too late to claim a room in the beach mansion, but early enough for there still be an open couch bed* thus sparing my back from having to sleep on the pool table or on a beach chair. A small group of us then went out to hunt for supplies. We needed some important wedding items like candles, bug spray, twine, and um those whatever yaw call 'em doctor mikes hard lemonaide drinks. Stupid typical me forgot any type of shorts, and to spare the party peoples seeing me in my boxer-briefs or worse yet neked, I stopped into a Ron Jons surf shoppe and got me some fine jams (circa 1983!).
After returning from our hunt we relaxed for a bit with a swim in the pool. I had brought up with me a few toys from the dollar store, and one of them was a blowup shark. As I began inflating Sharky (by blowing on the valve conveniently located beneath his lower fin), a revolutionary idea began to grow in my mind... a new game. NO, THE new game. The game that would come to in part symbolize the weekend.... Volley Shark! Part volleyball, part water ballet, and part tai chi, all ridiculous. Volley Shark was hours of entertainment for us all.
Next up was the rehearsal and dinner. I was lucky enough to be given the honor of escorting TWO beautiful women down the aisle. Marko had asked an old friend of ours from Denmark to be his "best man". I hadn't seen her in a good 5 years but she hasn't changed a bit. Incredibly beautiful Danish femme fatal and a lot of fun to joke with, I have missed her friendship and was glad she made the trip. On my other arm was bridesmaid #1, a very very cute Audrey Hepburn lookin redhead with gorgeous brown eyes. Later at the rehearsal dinner she said "You better sit here next to me. I want to keep my eye on you so you don't cause any trouble.". I do believe she was flirting wit me, and I was likin it!
-------- --------- --------- ---------
Saturday, lets say Noon. Everyone is busy with the last minute wedding shtuff. The women are getting hair done. The men folk are wandering around aimlessly. Last night it stormed hard. The rain has stopped now but the wind is a blowing and it be cold. Unfortunely the call is made to move the ceremony site indoors. I am sent off 14 times (give or take 12) to pick up random object like: toilet paper, paper towels, shaving cream, munchies, and a wind up plastic frog (my idea).
2:15 - We all put on our kilts, shirts, and shoes. I felt kinda silly at first. Not because of the kilt, but just the fact that the white dress shirt, and black kilt made me feel like a waiter at some cheesy Scottish themed American restaurant. Also, my face was all read from razor burns. I am the world worst shaver. Thats me. To make myself at least FEEL cooler, I put a flask of whisky in my pocket and labeled myself flaskman to the groom.
3:30 - Wedding ceremony, vows, crying, yadda yadda yadda, herding people around... oh, back up... Did i mention I got to escort TWO beautiful women for a walk?! Yup. Lets just let slide the fact that it was only a 34 second walk, and will be the last time, I'm sure, it will ever happen. Let me just enjoy that half-minute...
I should backup again and say that it really was a nice ceremony. Cold hearted me could even feel the Love in the room and teared up.
The rest of the night was a Technicolor blur. As I recall:
- Photo ops on the beach, the very cold windy beach. Did I mention the cold? The funnest part is when we groomsmen posed for "Joshua Tree" type album cover poses involving shell fish and Frisbees (frisbi? frisbium? flying disc?).
- An Indian couple kept trying to look under my kilt. She kept tugging at it while He tried to take pictures. Later they invited me over for chai. Hmmmm.
- "Audrey" and I flirted. She told me that I looked like John Lennon. I told her she was blind as a bloody bat in an awful cockney accent. My heart skipped two beats then went with the double bass drum solo.
- "Let's Get It On" as the song, which the groom and mother were supposed to dance to. (Marko wouldn't go for it for some reason though.)
- Me dancing with Marko's 60 something mother to House of Pain's "Jump"
- The low point of My night, I put a mug of red wine down and it somehow got knocked over. Spent 45 minutes alternating between dumping club soda on the carpet and jumping on a towel to soak of the death stain. I felt really bad but luckily I was able to avert some of the wrath, because I had a pack of Mentos in my pocket. I whipped the roll out, and said "da fresh maker!", and everyone was forced to just tilt their head, put their thumbs up, and smile.
- Turning the kilt backwards to dance to Criss Cross's version of "Jump"
- I had a breakdance showdown with a 6 year old, and he KICKED MY BUTT!
- A conversation about surfing (which I know nothing about... and I think he sensed that) with the wedding photographer.
- Alone on the dance floor, I performed on stage for the first time my interpretive Charlie's Angels modern dance to a lovely techno song.
- DJ pirates kept changing the songs. Rom Master D, had a kicks selection of MP3's rolling all night, but then the DJ pirates discovered how to use the setup and kept stopping songs 20 seconds in. Winkers! Apparently nothing before 1998 was valid in their tone-deaf ears. Apparently Elvis Costello cannot compare to 'Puddle of Stained Incubus'.
- A murder of an annoying fellow name John was planned but never executed (or wassss it?!).
I'm really not as much as an obnoxious asshole as this may make me sound. (And if I don't sound like one, it's only cause I'm not a very good writer and tend to leave details out.) But it was all fun.
Then... then just as the clock was passing midnight (I actually have NO idea what time it was), and people were starting to question how much wind they had in their sails, the call was made... "Volley Shark!!!"
and then an answer...
"Australian rules, righ!?!"
And it was on...
I jumped into that pool with my kilt on. The Dane jumped in with her dress on. And a killer 3 on 3, Australian rules version of Volly Shark began. It was intense. It was frightful at times. Fans were throwing things, and spitting alcohol (hope that's what that was) at us from the balconies. (Apparently Volley Shark fans have a reputation worse than English Futbol fans.)
It was amazing. Wish I could figure out who won.
-------- --------- --------- --------
Epilogue
Sunday. Sunlight beamed through some stupid artsy cube of glass in the wall right in my face. Like a microscope laser beam, right into my brain. Similar things were happening elsewhere around the house. A group of us slothed our way down to a local diner and loaded our gullets with pancakes. Some had more than others. I put some kind of Captain Morgan Malt hard syrup on mine which gave them a nice fizzy kick.
Then we tried our best to clean up the beach castle before the people hired to clean the beach castle got there. I found several hidden Mentos Fresh makers in several strange places. After that, we lollied around waiting for the "tent people" to take back what was there's. The stupidest things seemed hilarious in those hours... things like "Jenga", and "Crocodile Dundee 2". We recounted our tales from the evening before. One by one bodies left the building.
I said goodbye to "Audrey". Got a little hug and some digits (actually e-mail bytes would be a more correct term). Said goodbye to the Dane. Said goodbye to Rufus. Oh, I forgot to mention Rufus didn't I? Cool guy who kept talking about a time machine all night.
Anyhoo, it was one of the better times I've had in a while, and I hope that the next time I get to play Volley Shark with some of these people isn't at a funeral.
-bP
* Stupid typical me, didn't realize that the couch actually folded out to a bed until the weekend was over. Not that I needed to fold it out because the couch was room enough for one.
