No wedding goes off without a hitch. At least, not the good ones.
My wife likes to tell people I was late to the wedding, but that's technically not true. I had five whole minutes to spare. Here's what really happened...
I'd had my bachelor party the night before. It was a wild night of poker and pranks. While it was an absolute blast, we kept it under control. Or at least until my cousin started throwing up in the back yard. You just can't eat that much bean dip in one sitting. The grass always grew greener in that spot, though.
At the party, I'd given my house key to best friend Chris, who was a groomsman in our wedding.
The next day, I locked the house up tight since we were leaving for our honeymoon and wouldn't be back for a week. I was on my way to the church, with plenty of time to spare, when I realized I'd forgotten a little something:
No problem, I thought. I turned around and headed back to the house to retrieve it...and realized I had no key.
Never one to let my foresight be my downfall, I kept a calm head and did the only sensible thing I could do, given the circumstances:
I punched the back bedroom window as hard as I could, over and over. While this doesn't let you in through double-paned glass, it does leave nicely colored bruises on your knuckles.
Now I was even more calm. I told the window what I thought of it ("You're such a pane!"), and began throwing rocks at the glass. Nothing. Not even a crack. I had accidentally bought the strongest glass on the block.
Next, I went door to door looking for a neighbor with an available hammer.
Nobody was home.
As I headed back up my driveway, I noticed something in my car.
The Club. I had finally found a use for it. I never put it on my steering wheel, as it was a pain to use.
It was very convenient for smashing glass, though. We later found shards all the way into the living room, twenty feet away.
I snatched my tux and drove like a madman.
Chris met me in the parking lot of the church. He helped me get all the shiny wedding bling (button covers, cuff links, doodads) in order, and I was ready - with five minutes to spare.
My folks came to say hello. My mom pointed out my missing tie. I had dropped it back at the house. My dad whipped his off and handed it to me. I was set.
Jana was smiling as she came down the aisle, classically late. She was the most beautiful sight I've ever seen in my life. I almost flew down the stairs to take her hand.
As I grabbed her hand and headed back up the steps, her smile didn't fade, but she did ask me a question through gritted teeth.
"Where is your tie?"
I should have called a locksmith.