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The ramblings and observations of a kidney transplant recipient, although not necessarily for that reason.

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Monday, September 25, 2006

On Friday, I got up as early as possible to eat breakfast. I was already kind of annoyed with the many of the people that were there and I figured the way they had been drinking my best shot at avoiding them in the morning was to make sure I ate before their urges for bloody maries kicked in. Breakfast was decent. I had egg covered in some tomatillo based sauce. When I finished I headed to the pool and read my book until I saw signs of Randy's friends wandering around looking for some hair of the dog. That's when I, in true introverted form, headed for my room to take a nap.

When I got up later that morning, I had messages from my friend Jim letting me know he was on his way down. He was someone that I would not need to avoid and whose company I would prefer. The night before, Jim volunteered to pick up the maid of honor and bring her down with him. It wasn't exactly a straight line for him. He had to go a couple hours out of his way, but he was a hero for it. Jim arrived at The Oasis about 7pm and we went downtown to get some food on our own after the rehearsal. We would catch up with the weddingmen later in the evening as they were having a party in the Presidential Suite. The weddingwomen were not allowed and before I left for dinner, Elena pulled me aside and said "I have something important I need you to do. I need you to make sure Randy and the other guys don't get too drunk. I trust you the most out of those guys and it's important that you make that happen. "

I hoping this point has been made clear in the story, but I'm a total outsider in this wedding. The fact that I was wearing a tux and showing people wear to sit was more shocking to me that anyone. Really, anyone at that wedding would think "Oh, you must be one of Randy's good friends." Had anyone actually asked that I would have been tempted to answer, "No, you probably know him better than me."

Another interesting fact about this situation is that Randy and every guy in the wedding party except for Steve and me went to California State University Chico. I haven't seen any recent polls lately, but when I was in high school and college. Chico was the #1 party school in the country and anyone who went to Chico was more proud of their best beer bonging time then their degree (if they graduated without having their parents force them to transfer because 5 trips to the hospital for alcohol poisoning is just too much in one year). Now, I know everyone that goes to college has been to some wild parties, but Chico is just one big wild party. Not too much schooling actually goes on there. In fact the school has no real specialty. Usually you can name any school and someone will say "Oh they have a great broadcasting department," or something like that. Not broadcasting, not sports, not biology, not anything. Tell someone you went to Chico and what you hear is "Wow, you must be able to PARTY!" (and you wouldn't be wrong for thinking that either, because most of the girls I know that went to Chico can drink most of the guys I know that didn't under the table).

Now skip back a couple paragraphs. Remember when Elena said "Don't let them get too drunk?" I think maybe Elena overestimated some things about me. Maybe my strength. Maybe my intelligence. Maybe my willingness. She asked me, an outsider, to keep Randy and 7 Chico buddies from getting too drunk. I could not contain my laughter. Had I been drinking anything myself, Elena would have surely been covered in my beverage having only taken the short trip from my glass to her face via my nose. "I'm serious, Jerry. YOU HAVE TO! I can't ask anyone else." Truth was she couldn't ask anyone and I explained that to her and went to dinner.

I came back to the hotel after dinner, checked in on the Presidential Suite, was surprised not to see any hookers (although that doesn't mean they weren't there), drank a couple beers and went to bed. From my understanding, later that night, Elena and the girls violated the "No Women Allowed" policy set by the men and managed to get themselves a little too squiffy in the Presidential Suite. The next morning Randy looked energetic and ready to go. Elena, well let's just say she did not attemd CSU Chico, and probably should not have attempted to party with a bunch of people who did the night before her wedding.
posted by othur-me @ 5:04 PM  
3 Comments:
  • At 9:30 AM, Blogger Liz said…

    I had no idea that there are schools whose sole marketing technique was "We're the place to learn how to vomit with grace!" God... If I had only known this in 1989...

    Do you think it would be appropriate for a 34 year old to pursue her master's degree at at a university like the afore mentioned? Do you think I could hook up with some really hot young frat boy at a kegger and pull a Demi? Would I be loathed? Would it be worth it?

    I don't think I've been judged or shunned enough thus far in this life. This plan may get me my fair share.

    Cheers!

     
  • At 1:17 PM, Blogger Killer said…

    This is turning into quite the mini series. It reminds me of Roots, but with lots of booze, and it is set in Mexico, and there is no slavery.

     
  • At 8:49 PM, Blogger Nikki said…

    if you'd like to have the code for the clock mouse I have on my blog, email me at nkiblueeyes@yahoo.com and I'll send it to you. Blogger won't let me post it. :) Nikki

     
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