Saturday, September 09, 2006

My Own Private Idaho

Last weekend I went to another wedding.

The reception took place in a barn.

I'm not shitting you. The reception actually took place in a barn. Well, truth be told I guess it wasn't really a barn, because a barn would imply the structure actually had walls instead of plastic tarps rolled down from the roof and held down to the ground with rocks and wood.

Parking was available on the muddy outskirts of a cornfield, about a 10 minute walk from the barn. I skipped the church service but arrived with NewCootch for the reception.

NewCootch: Ho. Lee. Fuck. Did you know the reception was going to take place in the middle of fucking Idaho.

Hootch: What do you know about Idaho?

NewCootch: Actually, I know nothing about Idaho... and thats the way I was hoping to keep it.

Hootch: Hey.

NewCootch: Hey, what?

Hootch: No. "Hay". You have a couple of straws of hay sticking out from in between your toes.

I watched and laughed as NewCootch traversed the muddy terrain in her 4 inch open toed high heel shoes. Bits of straw and mud were beginning to collect near the front and bottom of her shoes.

NewCootch: I cant believe I bought a new dress for this. Did you know we were coming to a farm for the reception?

Hootch: No. On the invitation card they just gave an address for this place. I assumed it was a banquet hall or a restaurant or something.

NewCootch: It looks like some people knew. Look at that guy. He's wearing jeans and a lumberjack jacket.

Hootch: I know. I saw him before.

NewCootch: And look at that guy over there.

Hootch: What guy?

NewCootch: The guy wearing white high top running shoes with the huge tongue pulled out over his dress pants...who the fuck does he think he is - Chamillionare?

After a bit of walk we arrived at the entrance of the barn. There was a large table set up with a seating chart displaying all the guests' names and where they sat... all the guests' names but mine.

NewCootch: Do you see your name anywhere?

Hootch: Naw.

NewCootch: What are we gonna do?

Hootch: I think here comes the bride's aunt. I'll ask her... Excuse me. Hi. I cant seem to find my name on the seating plan.

Aunt: Oh my. Well, we cant have that now can we? What is your name?

Hootch: Hootch.

Aunt: I arranged all the guests' names in alphabetical order so we shouldn't have any trouble finding your name. Here are all the H's....but... I cant seem to find your name anywhere on this list.

I wanted to say "I know motherfucker. Thats what I just told you".

Aunt: Is there the possibility of you sending in your reply card with another name on it perhaps?

Inside my mind - "Okay, are you mentally fuckin retarded lady. This is your most logical explanation!! Why would I send in my reply card with another name on it. How 'bout the possibility that you just done fucked up and left my name off the list".

Hootch: What do you mean, like Geraldo or something? No. I'm pretty sure on my card I just put down my name.

Aunt: Well, I cant seem to find Hank anywhere on the list. I dont know how that could have happened.

Hootch: Well, I guess thats tough bones for Hank, but I'm Hootch.

Aunt: Well Hank, the good news is all the seats on the tables have name cards also. So what you can do is walk around the building and search the tables for your name card. I'm sure you'll find your seat.

We walked up and down the barn 3 times looking over everyone's shoulder as they were already seated at their respective tables. No luck.

Hootch: Yeah. Hi. I'm Hootch. Sorry I didn't mean to be looking over your shoulder. No, I wasn't staring at your wife... yes, I know a picture lasts longer... I was just looking to see if my name card was on this table.... oh, so there is a master seating list at the entrance of the barn? I must have missed it as I entered through this porthole to hell.

The beginning as well as the rest of the night was hilarious. I'll tell you some more stories later, but for now I'll leave you with one final observation. As me and NewCootch were walking up and down the barn, looking for our table, I overheard one woman say "Later on in the evening I am going to change into my casuals". At the time of this statement this woman was already wearing trackpants.


2 Dollar Productions said...

A tracksuit is appropriate for virtually an occasion, but who the hell holds a reception inside a barn and then doesn't make clear as hell exactly what the evening holds.

That's the great thing about weddings is that there's nearly always some sort of laughable debacle associated with attendance.

Me said...


I like in the boonies, but even I have never been to a reception that was held inside a barn. ;)

IDigHootchAndCootch said...

Actually, a barn was a pretty appropriate venue as the bride was a pig. HEYOOOOOO!!

I know. I'm a dickhead.

Freak Magnet said...

I went to a wedding at a farm once.

And was dumb enough to go into the pig pen to pet the pretty pigs.

One mean pig chased my ass and almost made me slip into a giant pile of muddy pig shit, wearing my Sunday Best.

I stay away from farms and barns now.

Me said...

Hootch---You may be a dickhead, but you're a funny one. ;)


drëâmè® said...

Haha the conversations are hilarious. Wow... never heard of a reception taking place in a barn... at least it was funny...

Did you guys ever find seats?

Melissa said...

You didn't sit NC at the bar, get her a drink, clean her shoes off and then go find the table? Because you know her feet were killing her in heels after you'd dragged her through a muddy field.


IDigHootchAndCootch said...

freak magnet - I would've pet the pig also... but she was too busy thanking her guests for attending her wedding.

Dreame - no, we never found our real seats. A new table was set up for us way at the fucking end of the barn... by the porta-potty.

Melissa - it wouldn't be fair to NC to give her the false impression that I'm a gentleman. Besides, clean her feet?!?! Good lord, woman, she's just a girl... not my saviour.