I SOILED MYSELF

I was at a wedding two Saturdays ago for a friend of mine up in Tilden Park. It was great. The food was delicious, the 65 year-old guy singing ‘I Like Big Butts’ was causing a storm on the dance floor, and some guy got trashed and decided it would be a good time to confront his ex. Luckily my friends’ little brother intervened (little in age, the guy is like 6’6″ and built like an Olympian so the pudgy drunk guy was no problem). But the thing I particularly liked about the wedding was that I got to drive them away in my dad’s ’66 Pontiac Bonneville.

Everything went fine. On the way home I drove them down College Avenue and then through Piedmont, dragging cans and streamers, getting hoots and hollars. This is just the lead-up, sorry.

Anyways, there was a couple at our dinner table who happened to be getting married the very next weekend. After they found out that the car was ours, they mentioned that they had totally forgotten to book a limo and wondered if I could do it. They seemed like an awesome couple, so of course I said “no problem.”

Fast forward to last Saturday. I got the car clean on the outside, clean on the inside, I even put on some nice clothes for the occasion. I drive to the wedding and park the car, making sure not to leave the headlights on, killing the battery, and their wedding with one stone. I kill some time just being a wallflower and watching everything going on. It’s so interesting to watch people at weddings, I don’t know why.

The wedding ends, I hop in the car, turn the key, and soil myself. It all happened with just one turn of the key. The key turned – I soiled myself.

The reason? Giardia? Amoebas?

The car didn’t start.

Not only did it not start, but the key didn’t even elicit any sort of noise from the engine. I wish I could have taken a picture of my face at that exact moment in time, it was priceless I’m sure.

So, I’m out there with the car and some of the guy guests trying to figure out what the hell to do with the hood up, when the glowing couple comes out the door towards the car with everyone cheering. Crap. Talk about the worst feeling you’ve ever felt. I mean, it’s their friggin’ WEDDING. How many of those do you get? Not many.

They hop in the car, everyone takes some photos, and then a guy guest turns to me and says, “When do you think we should tell them?” I responded with a “Maybe in about five minutes, ha ha ha.” The couple turns to me, asks if we’re ready to go, and it was then I gave them the strained smile. “You’re going to find this really funny…”

To their credit, they did find it funny. That made me feel better, but still crappy at the same time. We figure it’s not the battery, but the starter. So, just for kicks I get in the car and turn the key a few times. The electricity somehow connected and the FREAKING ENGINE STARTED!

After taking them to the hotel it took me literally an hour just to calm down I was so amped up from the adrenaline. Images of them waiting around for a taxi or for the AAA truck to show up had flashed through my head, but all was well.

Now I have to take my pants to the dry cleaners…

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