2 Bridal Parties And A Breakfast Sandwich

August 31st 2013

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Call it an addiction.

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Or unusual luck.

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But the wedding world and I always seem to

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cross >>

<< paths.

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No matter what country I’m in.

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(Or what bar I’m at)

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And the story goes like this:

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A couple of weeks ago my sister and I

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Yo diggity.

Straight up related.

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Decided to embark on a 2 week Eurotrip adventure  –  agreeing our first stop would be London – making a sincere promise to abide by our advanced and concise to do list that looked like this:

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photo-38

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We made some friends

What up hostel roommates

What up hostel roommates #australian

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Admired the locals:

So many sandwiches do you think he could fit in that hat? #lunchbreaksonlunchbreaks

I wonder how many sandwiches he could fit in that hat… #lunchbreaksonlunchbreaks

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Witnessed history:

P1000237

Behold: The originator of the stanky leg.

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And fell prey to what can only be described as a Grade C stalking attempt

No relationships go unwatched by Londi....

…Could have potentially been more discreet

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Encompassing a  well-rounded and successful trip to the land of Harry P

Yeah we know bro

Yeah we know bro

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And Lady Liz

Pope-Retires-Queen-Elizabeth

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But wait.

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There’s more.

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At approximately 8:03 pm that very evening, a member of our traveling group suggested that we utilize our night to invest in some outlandish activities.

Something different.

Something scandalous.

Something…strange.

Excited and curious, I inquired as to what they had in mind to which they responded:

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38d5d__orig-21162023.jpg

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And everyone else was all like:

....No.

….No.

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A promptly boarded an express bus to Debauchery town shortly thereafter.

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IMG_4143

Faulty decisions here we come!

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1 hour and 36 attemptive jokes later –

We had finally arrived to our first hopeful stop.

The Dukes Head

Here's a visual. Yolooo.

Here’s a visual. Yolooo.

.

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The night started wonderfully average. Good friends. Strong shots.

Alas we meet again, Tequila. #help

Alas we meet again, Tequila. #shit

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Resulting in a consequential bathroom break that occurred promptly afterwards

 >>> I ran swiftly to the women’s nearest lavatory.

All bathrooms locked.

NOOOOOOO.

NOOOOOOO.

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I was in the process of politely checking in with each occupant

HURRY UP BITCH.

HURRY UP BITCH.

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When suddenly.

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I noticed a girl at the bathroom sink. She was wearing a maroon dress and a

c

a

s

c

a

d

i

n

g

wave of blonde locks that were perfectly curled to her shoulders. She wore a man’s suit jacket resting on her back  (likely borrowed from nearby gentleman) and a big white bow pinned behind her ears as she gently reapplied her lip gloss and dazzled her cheekbones with the perfect kiss of blush.

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“Hey great look and hand washing” I said with mild inebriation and optimal class

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“I’m sorry?” She replied with a half turn around and adorable accent.

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“Oh what? I um. Hm. Wait. I’ve seen someone else with that dress tonight.”

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“Haha I’m sure you have. There’s about 6 more of us out there.  We’re all bridesmaids. We’re here for a wedding after party.”

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“A wedding after party? Here? At the Dukes Head?”

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“You got it girl” said an unexpected voice to the left.

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It was the bride.

Cue in the glory music.

Cue in the glory music.

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She emerged from one of the occupied stalls and joined her maid of honor at the sink.

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“Interesting choice” I said back to her.

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“Well it’s pretty good considering I threw this wedding together in 3 weeks.”

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“3 weeks?! That sounds sassy and devious. Tell me more. Is this like one of those eloping shin digs? Rebellious teenager? Met the man of your dreams and couldn’t wait another damn second. Wait am I on TV? Who are you? Where am I…”

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“Hahaha no no. I’ve actually been with my fiancé for about 5 years now. We originally had our wedding date set 9 months from now but then um. Well…then I found out that my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer last month and wasn’t going to make it until then…not even close actually. So. We replanned. Turned 9 months into 1. Bought a nice web cam and skyped our friends and family from abroad so they could see my dad walk me down the aisle and well. I have to tell you. I couldn’t think of a more perfect wedding day, Olive.”

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Olive wept.

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And the maid of honor too.

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We exchanged a necessary embrace and did a celebratory round of shots as we moseyed back over to the party premises. And eventually I wished her good luck. And she said the same to me too.

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And that’s when I noticed it.

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It had been a long while since I had seen my friends

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About 15 minutes perhaps.

And as it turns out, as I was exchanging fresh embraces with a kick ass bridal party in the lady lair, my gang had invested in a new crew of lads.

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Another bridal party in fact.

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Some may even call them a bachelor party.

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You know. One of those scandy get togethers when a group of men party their penises/hearts out before their buddy’s  big day – investing in a plethora of out of line activities like this:

Calm yourselves, boys.

Literally.

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And tonight? The bachelor’s name was Alan.

Alan! Alan!

Alan! Alan!

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Aka.

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Alan!

Alan.

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Alan was a great guy with a good flock of friends. And before my camera was stolen on this trip (most likely by a bear) I had a wild collection of pictures outlining our evening of absurd shenanigans. But in the meantime I suggest you use your imaginations and a little bit of trust.

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Cool.

Thanks.

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So there we were. A lot of us of approximately 15. Introductions were made. Inside jokes were concocted. Jager bombs were a plenty.

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And eventually Alan decided to move his crew just a few blocks down.

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And recruited us to come with.

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To which we responded:

HEREWEGO

Let’s do it.

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The next bar was miraculous. Filled with men dressed as cowboys (RIP lost pictures) and ridiculous  amount of locals going absolutely bananas on the dance floor. Sort of reminiscent like this:

crazy-dance-o

Hott.

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And about 24 hits from the 90’s, 8 confessions and entirely too many lip syncing contests later –  the lights were shut down and we were ready to head home.

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Except we didn’t.

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I was ready to raise my hand to hail a cab when I felt a gentle tug at my shoulder. Twas Alan and he was inquiring if I would perhaps like to combine my gang with his friends for an after party back at his abode. “Only if you have food” I responded with earnest eyes.

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“That’s the precise  answer you sister just gave me.”

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Nice.

Nice.

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Alan promised fresh champagne and uttered a word that sounded teasingly close to bacon so naturally I said

Oh yeah no no I'm free I'm free

Oh yeah no no I’m free I’m free

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And we piled in a cab.

So group shot of the cab went well.

So group shot of the cab went well.

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And cheerfully headed on our way

Bacon on the mind.

Bacon on the mind.

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About 3 minutes after our arrival. Alan proved that he truly wasn’t fuxin around. The champagne was popped.

champagne gif

A pretty accurate interpretation.

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Breakfast sandwiches were en route

where-is-my-food_1392

Late night hunger is no joke.

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Serenades were fully intact

Serenades were fully intact

Well-played, Richard. (Literally)

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The view was impeccable

Bacon and Alan. What more could you want?

Bacon and Alan. What more could you possibly want?

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             rising

And before we knew it the clock read half past 6 am. And the sun was

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And I had a complimentary

Glass of champagne in one hand,               a breakfast sandwich in another

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And an underlying feeling that this was only the beginning of my European shenanigans.

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And I must tell you.

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I was completely right.

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(More stories to come – Stay tuned!)

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9 responses

  1. Pingback: The 11 People I Met In Prague | olivethepeople

  2. Pingback: Pick A Box. Any Box. | olivethepeople

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