As expected the wedding was fab. I had never been to such a swanky, downtown, urban sort of wedding before. It seems like most of time, they’re at a winery, or somewhere nature-y. This one was at this beautiful old theater and part of the reception was actually on a closed down side street, the marqee flashing overhead.
SO cool.
You may be seeing this shot again in a couple of months in the form of a Christmas card. Act surprised.
The bride wore a dress worthy of such a shmancy locale. Even her elbows had their own finery.
A good time was had by all!
Then…AFTER THE WEDDING…
SB and I had a room at The Jupiter Hotel. The Jupiter is the perfect place if you’re ever in Portland for an epic wedding and you want to have 20 of your thirty year old friends back to your room and you don’t want to have to be going, “SHHHHHHH!” all the time, worrying you’re about to be kicked out. It’s all about the party there.
Anyway, there were various folks in and out of our room, partying, going back and forth to the bar, and general carryings on. At about 3am, goodbyes were said, breakfast plans were made, and everyone left.
We had been asleep for about an hour, when one of the groomsmen, Troy, who was DA-RUUUUUUNK started knocking on the door, yelling for one of the other groomsmen who had gone home with the other guests long ago. It went something like this:
knockknockknockknockknockknock
Fritz! Open the door!
knockknockknockknockknockknock
FRITZ! Open the door, man!
knockknockknockknockknockknock
COME ON, MAN! Open the door!
KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK
OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, FRITZ!
KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK
FINE, MAN! FUCK YOU!
StompStompStompStomp
SB and I decided not to answer the door. Had I known what the night had in store, I would have answered it in my underwear, all sleepy-like, told him Fritz was gone and to fuck off. At the time, however, getting involved with the drunken, savage, groomsman did not seem like the best course of action. Besides, I didn’t want him to end up passed out on my floor.
Well, he came back. There were two more cycles of the same routine from above, at half hour intervals. Some knocking and shouting, eventually escalating to pissed off, then stomping away. When he came back the fourth time, he had miraculously found his other, even more drunk friend, and this time, both of them knock, shout, get pissed, and eventually stomp off.
While they were knocking and I was awake anyway, I got up to pee and SB tried to trap me in the bed because he thought I was getting up to let them in. I wasn’t. What did they think was going on in their wasted state? It wasn’t even Fritz’s room! He wasn’t even staying there.
The fifth and final time was the capper. That time it was the friend, who had somehow gotten lost, because he assumed that Troy had eventually made it inside, and it went something like this:
knockknockknockknockknockknock
Troy! Open the door!
knockknockknockknockknockknock
TROY! Open the door, man!
knockknockknockknockknockknock
COME ON, MAN! Open the door!
KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK
OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, TROY!
KNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCKKNOCK
FINE, MAN! FUCK YOU!
StompStompStompStomp
I know this sounds awful, but it was actually pretty funny. We were so tired, we always fell right back to sleep. And it made a good story at breakfast.
You look HOT in the dress!
I knew that story would end up involving Fritz!
SO much fun! Love love love the dress, you look fantastic in it!
I’ll echo the others in saying again, what a hottie you are in that dress!
The Fritz story sadly reminds me of my own wedding night when we had a whole wedding party staying in the room next to ours, banging the walls, blaring their music, and pounding on our door. Much funny the next morning at breakfast!
Tacoma Friend: Thanks, lady.
Heather: Totally! In his defense, he felt really bad the next morning when we told him about it. We had to keep reassuring him it was no big whoop.
serror: Thanks! Weddings are the best!
Jill: Oh no! I don’t think I ever heard about that! You guys had my favorite wedding send off ever. You looked so cool, just heading off down the street in your finery with a bottle of champagne, sparklers fading in the distance.
I saw that reception when I was out and about this weekend! The hubby and I had dinner up the street from there, and then cut through on our way to a play (he surprised me with tickets for our anniversary.). The reception wasn’t going yet, but the waitstaff asked us if we were there for the wedding. Now I’m wishing I’d said yes! (Although the play was nice too).
Open the door, man.
Thanks