Wedding Story
The real “horrors” believe it or not, had to do with the honeymoon. It started the week before when we called to reconfirm our reservations that we had made the previous year. Needless to say, they mysteriously disappeared and since it was a holiday weekend (Columbus Day), there were no other vacancies. My future husband assured us that there would be no problem in finding a place to stay “somewhere”.
Well, he was right, we did find “somewhere” to stay the first night – our car (a Plymouth Duster, which my brother-in-law named Desdemona), the one that we had in the shop all week (keep this in mind as it will be crucial to the story) to prepare it for the trip from SE Massachusetts to Vermont, via the Mohawk Trail. The reason for our special honeymoon accommodations? Every hotel, motel, inn and shack were booked solid for the BIG weekend.
We drove as far as the Mohawk Trail (or as my little brother used to call it – The Newhawk Jail) and slept, yes slept for two hours in a hotel parking lot (not the one we were supposed to stay at) from 4-6 AM. The local Dunkin’ Donuts employees must have thought Mugsy and Lefty (not quite but you get the idea) had just invaded their little town when we walked in, as we were quite a sight (and not for sore eyes).
After coffee and donuts, we went out in search of possible lodging for the night, in hopes that some of the travelers would leave a day early to beat the holiday traffic. Right, like that was going to happen!
The first place we went to didn’t have any vacancies but while I was inside checking, the Duster stalled in the hotel carport and refused under any circumstances to restart. I guess spending a week in the shop ahead of time didn’t help much in this case. What to do? A quick call to the nearest auto body shop would reveal that their only tow truck had just been dispatched to a customer and wouldn’t be back for at least two hours. Ok, recheck the yellow pages for another shop. Woo hoo! It would only take fifteen minutes to get to us.
The celebration didn’t last for long as we were barely on the road when the tow truck, which was basically pulling us along by chains, went too fast and practically pulled off the front bumper. The other damage – monetarily came after we had lunch at Friendly’s – $25 for the tow and however much for the distributor cap and other items that we just had taken care of, or so we thought!
Now that the car was refixed (or was it?), we could continue on our way in search of any vacant room at this point. Amazing, after only checking out a half a dozen, we found a room at a nice looking hotel with a restaurant in the same parking lot. So on two hours sleep; we showered and got ready to go to supper but not before calling home, as we were supposed to do that when we arrived so that no one would be worried. OOPS!
According to both families, someone had called the night before pretending to be me, saying that it was over and I was leaving to come home. But since our younger siblings answered the phones and panicked, our respective mothers finished the calls and realized it wasn’t me after all. But since we really hadn’t called until 6 PM the next night, everyone was frantic.
By the time we calmed everyone down and got out of the room to hopefully get a decent meal, as things started looking up now that we actually had a room (with a view) the line for the restaurant was out the door and halfway around the building. Forget the hour wait (at the very least), we’ll go driving and find something. Sound familiar?
Oh good, a local snack shack. What could be more romantic? We ate outside on the umbrella topped picnic table. Cold grinders, greasy fries and vanilla shakes – YUM! We were on our honeymoon right? Did I hear someone refer to it as a funnymoon once? Well, it still wasn’t too funny at this point. Maybe when we got older we’d tell it to our children.
Now, now, we have to be positive. We have a room and a bottle of champagne waiting for us back at the hotel, right? Leaving out the details, it’s safe to say, everything went well after a half a bottle and we finally got some needed sleep afterwards.
A new day dawned and we could go sightseeing yes? No, not quite. The re-refixed car wouldn’t start again. The same mechanic from the day before came and only charged us $20 for the tow this time. Back to Friendly’s for breakfast. If this keeps up, they’ll think we’ve moved into the neighborhood.
Finally (we think), a fixed car, the road ahead filled with gift shops and hopefully a vacant hotel, since the one we stayed at was a little too expensive since we had to keep fixing the car.
We were able to get some shopping done, for our relatives that is; souvenirs for everyone but us it seemed. Then onward to our next place of residence for a day, not because they didn’t have more days available, that’s for sure. Let’s just say, as soon as we walked in, the lovely smell of a locker room filled the senses. Oh look, a flyswatter on the desk and extras flies too. Do we really have to stay here, I asked. Well, it’s that or the car, came the reply. At this point, I just wanted to go home. Could it get any worse? Never ask that question when the possibility of the answer being yes is very great, considering the circumstances.
Fast-forward to 10PM when the local TV station goes off the air for the night (yes this is the normal time for it to do so). Before we turn the TV off, we got a glimpse of what the station looked like. Picture this – the camera pans the control panel from left to right, bangs into the wall and goes back to the left. Then we saw scenery pictures via the Rolodex on the table. Are we having fun yet? Oh but it gets better.
After fixing the moth-eaten blankets on the bed, we turned out the lights. “Did you hear that? What was that sound? Do I hear rats? Oh God, no, not that!”
Now my brave heart of a husband, who had no problem scaring me earlier was afraid to step on the floor to put on the lights and check to see if we had visitors. So what does he do instead? In the dark, he stands on the bed and reaches over to the wall to put the lights back on, almost falling off the bed in the process. “Nope, no rats here. Maybe they’re outside.” Lights out once again. BANG! “Great, now we’re being shot at!”
The lights go back on much faster than the first time and the mystery is solved. The “rats” we heard was the carbonation escaping from the half empty champagne bottle, which wasn’t capped correctly. The “gun shot” was the cork blowing off the bottle and imbedding itself in the ceiling. Now that our hearts were racing at an extreme rate of speed, we really need to calm down and get some sleep so that we could get the heck out of there at first light.
Monday morning, just think � all this excitement in just two days. Amazing! What would the new day hold out for us? Well, for starters, the car did start. So we packed up and left the death trap in our dust as we headed to the original hotel that we had made reservations with the year before. What do you know? We only had to wait until 3PM for a room. In the meantime, we went hunting for more souvenirs for the remaining members of our families.
Returning to our hotel after a scare-free day (so far), we ran into some of the other guests who had already been there for two days. They kindly informed us that the TV antenna was out, so we couldn’t expect to watch any programs that night. When hubby told them we were on our honeymoon and that he was sure we’d fine something to do (with a smirk on his face, of course), the husband of the other couple said, “Oh yes, we brought magazines.” Heeeelllllllloooooooooo?
So anyway âÂ?¦ after pizza on the “patio”, I stayed outside reading, while hubby took a shower. I thought to myself, “Just try to be positive, things are getting better right. They have too.” Do they now? Says who?
Looking up from my novel, I got the second worse fright of my married life (well at least up till that time). My wonderful husband (and I use the term very loosely) was looking out the window behind me, with his face pressed against the glass and the curtains closed against his head, so that I when I turned around all I could see was his face. Ok that’s it! The husband is going home in a casket, if he doesn’t scare me to death first.
Did I mention that both of us are allergic to feather pillows and we had them at every place we stayed? When checking out, I mentioned it to the clerk as he asked if why our eyes and noses were so red and irritated. When I told him, he said, “Oh, you should have told us. We have other kinds.” Of course âÂ?¦ why didn’t we think of that? DUH!!!!!
Skipping ahead to what ended up being the last day of our week honeymoon, only four days later, it was the icing on the cake as they say. Monsoon rains fell (and we weren’t even in India) the entire time we were in one of the gift shops. We came out with the last of the gifts and get soaked while trying to get everything into the car. Turn the key and âÂ?¦ yep, you guessed it – the car wouldn’t start. Now, of course we are parked facing into the building and there isn’t any room for someone to fit in to jump us. Idea! Hubby pushes the car backwards while I steer. Sounds easy enough right? Wrong!
How do you steer a car away from anything in your path when you can’t see out the fogged-up rear window that has rain falling on it faster than Michael Flatley can tap with his “feet of flames”? Right, you can’t! Well at least I couldn’t (which reminds me of the time I tried to drive a large moving truck after only just learning how to drive standard. But that’s another story that would happen years down the road – three actually).
Without being able to see what my husband was screaming for me not to hit, I slammed on the brakes rather sharply. After being pulled out of the driver’s seat, I was sent to ride shotgun once again but not before seeing what I had almost done. Behind the car (very close behind, I might add) was an animal cage with the only known living guanaco in the US, which I almost killed by ramming through it’s living quarters. Someone should have just shot me then and put me out of my misery.
Surprisingly enough, the car started up without a jump or a tow (for $15 this time maybe) and we were finally on our way home – much to the surprise of our family and friends.
It all happened twenty-three years ago, but I can vividly remember it like it was yesterday. No word of a lie – this story is 100% true. Believe me âÂ?¦ even I couldn’t make something up like this and I pride myself on my writing. I think I’ll call Steven Spielberg and see if he wants the rights to the movie.
