Waiting on Food

Here I am this am with much to blog about. Only not.

I could tell you about going to a former student from HHS wedding on Saturday night.

It was hot, muggy, and the only other flaw was that they waited so long on the food. The wedding was at six; we were FINALLY served food at 8:15. I went to the wedding with Wingate, my old comrade in arms.

When we got to the reception, a few of the caterers were circling the joint with appetizers. Folks jumped on them like deer on a salt lick. I had one stuffed mushroom and one unidentifiable cheese puff. By the time, they opened the doors to the buffet, Wingate and I were first in line.

It helped that the line began right next to the air conditioner vent of which I stood over to allow air to blow up my skirt; other wedding goers found this amusing. I mean, seriously, if I was pulling a Marilyn Monroe, those guests would be pulling one eighties.

*shrugs*

Wingate and I were both sweating like we had the fantods. Weddings receptions should not be held in June in old plantation houses where the ceilings go up two floors, the windows are thin as ice, and one of the bars is outside. Hello?

My husband dislikes weddings -- he says, "weddings and wakes begin with the same letter. That's divine intervention." He also calls the food at weddings "recreational." He thinks, if they wanted you to eat, they would bring it to you -- when you have to go get it -- it's not serious.

Whatever.

The student's wedding I went to is the only student that I have ever taught who went to Harvard. True story.

He just finished getting his MBA from Stanford. I guess that's impressive too. He and his new wife will live in San Francisco, which is where, according to him "the money is."

I've always wondered about "where the money is." Figures that Ben would know.

I sent them their wedding gift to California, and I wrote on the card addressed to his then fiancee: "you have won the lottery." At the wedding, she chuckled (I think) and reminded me of my note.

Why is it that people remember what I say? I taught school for thirty years and none of them remembered what I said, unless they shouldn't have. Argh.

Another liability of going to a former student's wedding is running into other former students. Four of whom talked to me like myna birds -- another who looked at me like I looked familiar, but she wasn't about to find out where she knew me from. I never do that -- I always find out where I know someone from. I have threatened perfect strangers in public places with "did I teach you?"

Yep, former students are a disadvantage to run into at any event. At least this particular group had been away from me for 15 years and were done with their therapy.

One, whose parent was also there, introduced me to her father who said, "Oh yea. Kill 'em Gill'em."
I'm taking that as a compliment.

Another student said, "All we did was write. That's all we did. We wrote. We wrote. Then we wrote some more. The writing class from hell."
I'm taking that as a compliment too.

Another one said, "I was Ben's friend. I wasn't smart enough to be in your class. I knew of you. I heard horror stories. I mean, you were HARD."
*roll my eyes*

I'm thinking he turned out okay. I mean, other than the fact that he's balding. I don't know if I could have stopped that if he was in my class.

At one point, the groom, Ben, and I had a moment. He told me how much it meant to him for me to show up at his wedding.

I said, "I was just thrilled to be invited. You know, having your former teacher out in public at your wedding where she could embarrass you."

He said, "I wanted my wife to meet you. She's heard stories."

Later when I did meet the wife, I whispered, "You look fabulous. I have no idea who you guys are, but I was down the street, saw there was a party, and thought I would stop by for the chocolate fountain. I had three marshmallows, one pretzel, one graham cracker, and three strawberries. Absolutely delicious."

That's how I handle stories about me. I just act like I have no idea what they are talking about.

She looked at me oddly and thanked me for coming.

I can't wait to hear from Ben on that one.

And for now, that's all I got.

BTW: No sand ceremony. No one was mixing sand colors at this wedding. I do admit, however, that if they had, I was so hungry, I might have tasted it.