The most memorable wedding we ever attended took place in the fall of 2001 in Southern Louisiana.
It was twenty minutes before the ceremony and the groom and I were just hitting our drinking groove at a bar in the Garden District of New Orleans. They knew us well enough to know what would come if they continued serving us such stiff drinks, so one of the bartenders demanded we leave-- after all, she was in her bridesmaid's dress and was missing half a shift to attend the festivities, so we were wasting her time.
The groom departed and I was soon left in the otherwise empty bar with my ride, a local homicide detective we'll call W. W. was falling off the stool and dropping his car keys, but I knew he was in total control. "We better hit the road," he mumbled, "The wedding is in fifteen minutes and it's twenty minutes away..."
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