Things that happened the day we got married…
Chapter 1: The Pants Story
Many wonderful things happened in the days prior to the day that Mark and I got married. One of these wonderful things was the reunion of some good old friends of Mark’s. Thursday night, in fact, turned into an impromptu bachelor’s party for Mark at our apartment (thankfully, I was away).
I would later learn that the night involved many festivities, including urine finding its way into Joe’s juice bottle, vodka in a spray bottle to be squirted into people’s mouths involuntarily, a small backyard fire started with a barbecue lighter and the aforementioned squirt bottle of vodka, and a poor boy named Jim who fell asleep before the rest of the crowd deemed it acceptable and who therefore, felt the consequential rath of three sets of scroti against his bald head and face. Of course, this involved the removal of the vengeful boys’ pants.
The removal of pants is a very well documented demonstration of drunken joy amongst this tight-knit clan of Thunder Bay boys. “Sack goggles”, as they like to call them, has long-time been a repercussion of retreating from the festivities to the land of nod too soon.
However, this story isn’t about de-panting in the sense mentioned above. It is only a story rendered more ironic because of the commonness of the de-panting incidences.
The same group of boys met at a hotel room on our wedding day to get ready, with Mark for the big event. They had a beer each to calm their nerves, then they began to unpack their suits. Mark (the groom, who stands about five foot six inches), lifted the hanger with his suit on it and took it to the bathroom to change. As he did so, his pants slid off the hanger and to the floor without him noticing. He was in the bathroom only long enough to put on his shirt, when he threw open the bathroom door and exclaimed in distress and horror, “I’ve got no pants! Oh my god, I left my pants at home.”
Without so much as a pause, and with the same love, devotion and swiftness of a friend leaping in front of a bullet to save a comrad, Cory (six foot and a bit) courageously offered, “You can have mine pants, man.”
Lucky for both of them, the pants were located only seconds later. For Mark, they would be some of the longest seconds he’ll ever experience.
Chapter 1: The Pants Story
Many wonderful things happened in the days prior to the day that Mark and I got married. One of these wonderful things was the reunion of some good old friends of Mark’s. Thursday night, in fact, turned into an impromptu bachelor’s party for Mark at our apartment (thankfully, I was away).
I would later learn that the night involved many festivities, including urine finding its way into Joe’s juice bottle, vodka in a spray bottle to be squirted into people’s mouths involuntarily, a small backyard fire started with a barbecue lighter and the aforementioned squirt bottle of vodka, and a poor boy named Jim who fell asleep before the rest of the crowd deemed it acceptable and who therefore, felt the consequential rath of three sets of scroti against his bald head and face. Of course, this involved the removal of the vengeful boys’ pants.
The removal of pants is a very well documented demonstration of drunken joy amongst this tight-knit clan of Thunder Bay boys. “Sack goggles”, as they like to call them, has long-time been a repercussion of retreating from the festivities to the land of nod too soon.
However, this story isn’t about de-panting in the sense mentioned above. It is only a story rendered more ironic because of the commonness of the de-panting incidences.
The same group of boys met at a hotel room on our wedding day to get ready, with Mark for the big event. They had a beer each to calm their nerves, then they began to unpack their suits. Mark (the groom, who stands about five foot six inches), lifted the hanger with his suit on it and took it to the bathroom to change. As he did so, his pants slid off the hanger and to the floor without him noticing. He was in the bathroom only long enough to put on his shirt, when he threw open the bathroom door and exclaimed in distress and horror, “I’ve got no pants! Oh my god, I left my pants at home.”
Without so much as a pause, and with the same love, devotion and swiftness of a friend leaping in front of a bullet to save a comrad, Cory (six foot and a bit) courageously offered, “You can have mine pants, man.”
Lucky for both of them, the pants were located only seconds later. For Mark, they would be some of the longest seconds he’ll ever experience.
True friendship is offering a friend your pants when he’s about to get married without any.
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