
My childhood friend, Raquel, is the one that instructed me from outside the bathroom door while I inserted my first tampon, the one who reenacted her first kiss on her hand for me just because I needed as much preparation as possible for my first kiss, the one that spent countless nights at my house every summer, the one that I haven’t seen in years but still get daily phone calls from. She is also the that asked me to be the Maid of Honor in her wedding. Naturally, she requested that I do her makeup and tend to the typical maid of honor duties, which I was happy and eager to do. Much preparation and planning went into this wedding, especially since she planned the whole event in 3 months. It’s been hectic to say the least and I’d be lying if I said she didn’t drive me crazy in the process.
Friday was the big day, and I couldn’t have been more excited about it. Not only was I excited for my childhood friend, but I was also excited for me. My boyfriend used this opportunity to rent a hotel room and plan a romantic getaway for us at the St. Regis on Ft. Lauderdale Beach. I couldn’t wait to wear all my new lingerie for him, lounge by the pool, and of course have sex for hours. It’s possible that I was more excited about Raquel’s wedding than she was.
I took the day off of work on the big day and drove up to Ft. Lauderdale first thing in the morning. We went to our hair appointments together and made sure that everything was ready to go before arriving at the country club where her wedding would take place. They had a bridal suite there that I did her makeup at. Raquel had been surprisingly calm the entire day, but as we sat down to do her makeup, and as the guests were arriving and constantly coming in to say hello, she started to spaz out… I mean literally freak out. I tried my best to keep her calm, but when the clock hit 6:30 and she didn’t have her dress on yet, we went into overdrive. Luckily, it all went smoothly and the ceremony was beautiful. After we took countless numbers of pictures, it was time to be introduced at the reception. The wedding was going perfectly and just as planned. Raquel looked beautiful and so happy, as did the Groom. I began anticipating my speech. I was so nervous about it and due to that, I barely touched my food and downed two vodka tonics. They did the trick and my speech was flawless. No stutters, no hiccups… perfection.
The drama begins…
After that was over with, I was ready to PARTY! I was the first one to hit the dance floor and I don’t think I ever left it. I had 2-3 more vodka tonics…feeling very nice. The DJ started playing songs that Raquel and I used to dance to when we were kids and I kept trying to get her on the dance floor. She looked so stressed and I just wanted her to enjoy it and have a good time. When Motown Philly by Boyz II Men came on, I ran over to her table filled with excitement and reached my arms out to grab her when I accidentally hit a beer bottle that was on her table, causing it to fly and spill all over her dress. Mortified and embarrassed, I ran to the bridal suite to cry. I felt horrible! Another one of Raquel’s friends was in there. She tried her best to console me, but I couldn’t stop crying. She then pointed out a bottle of champagne that had been sitting on ice, and asked if I’d stop crying if she popped that bottle open. Of course I obliged! Never mind that I was on my 5th vodka tonic or that we had no clue whose bottle it was or where it came from. At that point there was no rationalization. I was upset and there was no stopping me. Needless to say, the two of us killed that entire bottle. I went back and joined the rest of the party, but was disappointed that almost everyone was gone.
It was basically just my boyfriend and I and the bride and groom left. Raquel and I were standing by what was left of the cake, and I got what I thought was the best idea ever! Since she wasn’t having fun the entire night because she was so busy entertaining, I wanted her to celebrate that the night went so well, and that this night that she had dreamt of her whole life was finally over. Her beautiful, large, perfectly round cake was just calling my name. So, I did the unthinkable, I shoved my hand into that perfect cake with every intention of rubbing my hand all over Raquel’s face. Luckily, she was faster than me and I just missed her. She then started screaming obscenities at me and yet again, I ran off crying. As I was in the bathroom listening to her yell about me at the top of her lungs to her new husband, I couldn’t help but feel like the worst person on the planet. I went into the bridal suite to apologize, but she said she couldn’t stand the site of me and left the groom and me to pack her things. The tears wouldn’t stop, and when my boyfriend walked in to find out what the commotion was all about, I started crying harder. We packed my things and left to head to the hotel which was a good 45 minutes away. As we were leaving the country club, I tumbled down a large staircase that was at the entrance. I have bruises in the strangest places to prove it.
We shouldn’t have been on the road and I was so nauseous from the champagne that I kept demanding for my boyfriend to pull over so I could barf the night away. After he pulled over three times, he refused to pull over anymore which then caused me to call him an asshole amongst other horrible names. I was crying loudly, moaning in pain due to the nausea loudly, as well as cursing loudly. On top of all that, we couldn’t find the hotel. We were driving in circles trying to find the damn place. Once we finally arrived, valet got me a wheel chair, because there was no way in hell I was able to walk to our room. My wonderful boyfriend, undressed me, and put me to bed ending what was one of the worst nights of my life.
I woke up in the morning oblivious to the majority of the things that happened. I remembered the cake nightmare, but I didn’t learn of the champagne or the beer bottle fiasco for a couple of days. I apologized to everyone profusely, and while it is comical in some ways, I can’t help but feel like an alcoholic. I just don’t know what else to think about it. My intentions are never bad…they are always good, but somehow I managed to singlehandedly ruin one my best friend’s most important day of her life.
The weekend turned out to be just as relaxing as we had hoped for, and it was definitely needed after a night like the one we had. It sucked that we were both nursing a hangover for the first 24 hours after, but it definitely brought us closer as a couple. As far as that champagne bottle, it was a gift from the groom’s mother. Let’s just say, she isn’t my biggest fan. I don't really care about her though...she was trying to get with my man all night...old hag.
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