Wedding Wincing: "Dowutchyalike"

One of my favorite weddings ever was my buddy Martin's wedding two years ago. I went to college with Martin so his wedding was a chance to reconnect with my old classmates. One person I was NOT excited to see was Billy, a cocky, smug, Texan-bred blond. We had a falling out in college because he didn't return a record player I'd lent him. The whole ordeal culminated with me calling him an asshole; things were chilly between us ever since.

Last I heard, he ran for mayor of a small town in Texas and lost. Even that story annoyed me because he was the type of guy to run for political office just so he'd have a quirky story to tell a beautiful woman at a cocktail party. His Southern accent made my skin crawl.

Imagine my surprise when he greeted me with a warm hug the night before Martin's wedding. My former arch-enemy had extended an olive branch! He told me how he'd been stationed in Peru as a reporter for the Associated Press. He regaled me with stories about Peruvian life, bribing local officials and how he met Hugo Chavez for a story he worked on. Every time we finished a round of drinks, he'd inch his chair closer to mine.

His Southern drawl, which used to grate, now put me at ease. My eyes twinkled every time he called me "darlin'." After a particularly funny story, he smacked his glass down on the table and announced what a shame it was that we didn't get a chance to reconcile sooner. I didn't resist when he took my hand as we walked out into the Brooklyn night air. There was a spark.

We stayed up all night, talking, giggling and kissing. When the morning light streamed in, we rubbed our eyes and got ready for Martin's wedding along with the rest of the house. As I took my seat, I saw Billy. He was in a tux stationed at the front of the room. My God, I had just (inadvertently) hooked up with the best man! Did I win a prize? It felt like I'd hit the 500 point hole in skeeball. It felt like I'd found the afikomen of wedding hookups (that was a joke for the Jews out there.) Go me!

So, what did I do with this new found glory? Well, I hooked up with another guy obviously. As an added bonus, he was staying in the same house where Billy and I were staying. In my defense, it was my longtime crush, Joey. This adorable Michael J. Fox look-a-like had turned my head for, like, a decade. I even liked him when he went through his weirdo beardo phase two years after college. He had never expressed interest in me so I'd given up on us ever locking lips. When I saw a glimmer of hope, I had to pounce on it.

Well, Joey made a move and I didn't hesitate. As we left the reception, I looked back over my shoulder to see Billy shaking his head in disbelief. I squeezed Joey's hand tighter. Sorry, former arch-enemy! I had the chance to make out with someone on my Kiss Wishlist who didn't live in Peru.

We all went back to the house and I felt bad when I heard Billy's voice through the walls. At 7am, I scrawled a quick note on a napkin thanking my hosts and caught the first bus back to Philly. The thought of seeing both Joey and Billy over breakfast bagels was a little too awkward for me to bear.

The moral of the story: there is no moral. It's a wedding! As Digital Underground wisely sang, "Dowutchyalike!"