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RSSWedding Tales: Cut to the Chase (Interlude)
Mar 04
Relationships Wedding Comments Off
The best part of my day came next. I got into the fight with the photographer because…well, he was a dumbass. He got it into his head to send the bridal party to this outdoor location for a few shots. Problem was, the location was nowhere near anything, and furthermore, no one in the wedding party knew how to get there. The photographer had three cars and the wedding party was in four; therefore seven cars had to make to this spot by each of us following the car ahead of us, the photographer in the lead car.
Oh yeah, although he was repeatedly asked for either verbal or written directions, he kept saying “Just follow me, just follow me.”
Cut to the chase, I was the groomsmen in the last car of the wagon train. My driver and I immediately hit two red lights in a row, by which point there is no hope in catching up with the wagon trains. We were food for coyotes. We ended up on the highway heading back in the general direction of the hotel, called the groom get vague directions, drove for twenty minutes, circled a lake twice and finally through blind luck turned into a library parking lot and found the wedding party and the photographers on a veranda taking beauty shots of the bride.
I was on fire. First off the groom is yelling at me in to the phone because he is excited that spotted my car during our leisure drive around the lake twice, despite the fact that I had no idea where he was or how to get there. Great, I yelled back, not out of excitement. Then we get out of the car and the smarmy photographer is looking smug and excited because I was pissed and he knew it. I let him have it. Then to top it off, we took one photo. That’s it. Two flicks of the camera and we are all racing back to the hotel to get ready for the reception.
Later, several people mentioned to me that I was actually too nice to the guy and he really deserved it. Nevertheless, I was restraining myself because I wasn’t the one paying for his services. It did occur to me way, way later that it would have made the most sense if I had just driven with one of the photographers; but alas, I didn’t.
