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The dreamy story of my wedding and the days that led up to it

It all happened one fateful day back in 1957, but before I tell you about that day I should tell you about how I got to the point of finally tying the knot.

I met my beautiful bride one day at a local soda fountain. I was looking to order a seltzer from the jerk because I although I was still pretty drunk I had a terrible hangover from drinking all night with my buddies, and I figured the bubbles would calm my upset stomach and help sober me up.

Anyway, when I walked into the fountain there she was! She was sitting at the counter sipping a raspberry lime rickey and reading a book (I think). Through my hung over semi drunken haze I squinted to try and join the two images of her into one, but I wasn't quite able to focus.

When I stumbled up to the counter I noticed she gave me a glance so I decided to make a move. I ordered a seltzer form the jerk behind the counter and cooley pulled out a smoke. Then mustering all my manly charms I turned to her and asked her for a light. No silly she said, I don't smoke then she let out a giggle.

Well that was enough of a sign for me. I then asked her if she wanted to get out of there and go get a bottle of Wild Irish Rose and to my delight she said sure, I'd love to tie one on. Little did I know at the time she actually said sure, I'd love to tie the knot. (I found out later on from the jerk behind the counter that those were the words she actually said).

It was a whirlwind romance which lasted all of two weeks in which I stayed totally drunk, and at the end of the two weeks I finally got up the nerve to ask her to marry me. I was at the bar when I decided to pop the question, so I went to the phone booth called her, and slurred, baby cakes would you marry me?

It was around 1:00pm when I made the phone call and to my surprise she was awake. She was partying it up with one of her friends and although they were just about finished with their second bottle of whiskey, she was still able to blurt out sure honey buns, why not.

I was getting thirsty doing all that talking so I said Bees Knees and hung up the phone and bellied back up to the bar and proceeded to really get loaded.

After a half a dozen more drinks I started to get cold feet so I decided to call a buddy of mine and get some moral support.

By the time my pal showed up at the bar I had guzzled at least another half dozen more drinks and even though I was feeling a little better about popping the question, I was still sweating the thought of not being a playboy anymore.

My buddy smacked me in the face (because I was starting to pass out) and said look pal, you got yourself into this mess and you'll have to get yourself out of it. Now buy me a drink. When the room stopped spinning enough for me to stand up again we laughed and laughed until I puked.

My buddy stuck around until I ran out of money, but before he left he pointed to his watch and said, look chum, I'd love to stick around and help you drown your sorrows but I have to get home to my own snookum wookums before she finds my stash of booze and pours it down the drain.

I asked him if I could go home with him and have a few more drinks, but he said there was only enough for him and as I watched him slip out the door I could have sworn I heard him say sucker under his breath, but I was pretty drunk and he could have said see-ya.

Being broke I decided it was time to stumble home and pass out. On the way home I tried to convince myself that I was doing the right thing, besides, she was a real looker I told myself, and she could drink a Russian sailor under the table to boot. Whata gal I thought to myself.

The next day, before I could sober up, my buddies came over to my flop house and threw me a bachelor party. Boy what a party it was too!

We all drank our self's silly and all the guys chipped in and bought a bottle of MD 20/20 for a bag lady to give all of us lap dances. Good times, good times.

The party was great and lasted until I told them that all my booze was gone, then all the guys raided my fridge and ate every last scrap of food.

There was lots of crying after the raid because there was no more booze, but just when it looked like the party was over they all pointed to my engagement ring and said scrap that sucker and get some more booze!

I wasn't keen on the idea, but one of my buddies handed me a cigar band and said put this on in it's place. Your bride to be is usually drunker than you are and she won't even notice. Yeah I said, you're right, let's do it.

Well the party lasted for another two days, and would have gone on longer, but one of my pals noticed that I was supposed to be at the wedding two hours ago, so we all piled into his Edsel and swerved off to the chapel.

When we got to the chapel my bride to be was passed out cold so we all snuck in and pretended we were there all along. When we woke her up she didn't even notice that we were late and between nips off of her flask the wedding went off without a hitch.

My bride and I slurred our vows, and because there wasn't enough money for a reception we said our farewells and slipped out the back door.

Let me tell you it was a great honeymoon. We went to the Salvation Army and got a room voucher good for a small flop house in a run down part of town, and during the next couple of days I pan handled for spare change while she strolled the block. Between the two of us we made enough to keep our self's three sheets to the wind.

Now let me tell you it was a whirlwind week. The only thing is, I wish I had sobered up a little before I took the plunge because in my drunken haze I was stunned by her beauty and by the way she could put them away, but when I finally did sober up three weeks later, I woke up to the sound of her pukeing in the bathroom.

Puking noises are nothing new I thought to myself and I rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand, but there on the nightstand right next to a half of a bottle of vodka was her wedding picture!

Cringing, I Reached over to the nightstand and I gently laid that picture face down. I then grabbed the bottle and downed the whole thing in one gulp. By the time my bride was done puking and came out of the bathroom the booze had kicked in and she was back to being the beautiful nymph I married the week before.

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