Sounds Like A Good Dothraki Wedding To Us

, , , , , , | Friendly | August 31, 2020

My husband and I are both volunteer firefighters at a volunteer fire company in Delaware while he is stationed at Dover Air Force Base. The fire company has a banquet hall that it rents out for events and also provides catering and bar service.

My husband and I have volunteered to assist the catering manager for a wedding. The groom is an Airman originally from West Virginia but stationed at Dover Air Force Base and the bride is his high school sweetheart. The wedding is a total disaster or a laugh-out-loud redneck fest, depending upon how you looked at it.

Here are some highlights:

After the wedding ceremony concluded and cocktail hour had started, my husband caught a bunch of rednecks drinking moonshine — illegal bootleg corn whiskey —  in the fire hall parking lot. This is illegal and could have cost the fire company its liquor license. My husband kindly asked the gentlemen to stop drinking in the parking lot. When they refused, he radioed on his duty radio for the town police to come. Said rednecks were angry about the police coming so they decided to storm into the fire hall to confront my husband. They ended up being chased out of the hall by our fire chief at the time, a very large Native American man who happens to be able to bench press over 300 pounds. The offending rednecks were then ordered off of the fire company property by the town police.

During the dinner, my husband and I were serving the requested meal of roast beef and gravy, mashed potatoes, etc. I was serving the gravy to the guests by ladling the requested number of scoops onto the guests’ plates after my husband put the plates down before the guests. I was walking back to the kitchen when a little girl tugged the sleeve of my shirt and said, “Paw Paw wants more gravy!” I had already served “Paw Paw,” an elderly man, three scoops of gravy. I took a fresh pitcher of gravy over to Paw Paw, and apparently, he wanted a grand total of ten scoops of gravy, literally flooding his plate! It was really lucky that we were in a fire station, just in case Paw Paw had a stroke from consuming that much salt!

The evening concluded with the bride getting into a knock-down, drag-out drunken argument with her mother because there wasn’t enough money on the bar to cover an open bar for an entire night. The bride then puked all over her gown and the handicap stall in the women’s restroom. She started screaming at me and stating that I should be fired because I was quite obviously trying not to laugh at the disaster that I had been watching unfold all night long. I informed her that both my husband and I were volunteers so we couldn’t be fired. The bride then tried to scream at me again but ended up puking all over my shoes.

One of her more sober friends drug her out of the fire hall and stuffed her into a pickup truck, separate from the groom. The groom, who wasn’t nearly as drunk, ended up apologizing to us for everything. 

It’s been five years since this happened and my husband and I often wonder if the bride and groom are still married.

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