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Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Noisy Gravel Road

“Okay. I’m going to a wedding by myself. I won’t know anyone. But that’s okay, because I’m a cool, confident girl.”

* * *

“Do all musicians double-book themselves? His name was on the invitation.”

* * *

“This could quite possibly be the shortest dress I’ve ever put on. And heels? Don’t help it look more appropriate. Aha! I’ll wear flats and a jacket to the bus stop.”

* * *

“Why is everyone looking at me like I belong on a street corner? And why did I get on this bus?"

* * *

“I get it. The dress is short. And yes, I have a date. Where is he? None of your beeswax.”

* * *

“Jeff, where the hell are you? The ceremony was supposed to start five minutes ago.”

* * *

“ARGH!”

* * *

“Ooo! Pretty table settings. I wonder what’s for dinner.”

* * *

“Okayyy. It’s 6:25 p.m. Ceremony’s starting. Music’s playing. Bride’s walking. I’ll sit in the back. Hopefully he can sneak in unnoticed.”

* * *

[Vvvvrrrrrooooooooooooooommm!]

* * *

Guests, watching Jeff’s gold Camry speed toward the venue on a noisy gravel road: “Looks like someone’s a little late! Wow he’s really hustling!”

* * *

Just in time, he slithered in unnoticed—by the bride, anyway.



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  1. ha... this sounds like an awkard conversation i would have with myself. love it! :)

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