My hubby and I went to a wedding reception Saturday night for the daughter of my hubs coworker. It was in a small town, at the end of a canyon.
The drive was strange. I guess we’re entirely too citified, but seeing black all around instead of the light pollution we’re used to was weird. There were no street lights, not even much traffic coming the other way down the highway so everything felt, well, dark. Isolated. Like if we had to stop no one would ever find us again. OK, now I’m exaggerating, but it was a surreal drive for us.
We pulled up to the church building the coworker’s other daughter had held her reception at. On the way in, hubs said, “I guess I should have checked the invitation for an address, but how many churches can there be in one small town?”
We went in and saw a long, long line. From a couple in front of us we heard, “The line wraps all the way around the hall and out that door, over to here.” Wow. We really didn’t want to wait that long since we were hoping to go to a restaurant up near the small town we’ve been to once before. But, wait we did.
A mom with a toddler boy and a baby girl in a carrier was right in front of us. The boy kept telling his mom, “I have to go to the bathroom. Now!”
“Just wait for Dad,” the mom answered back. But just a minute later the mom looked slightly frantic when it became clear that her son was growing more and more desperate.
“I’ll watch your baby while you take him to the bathroom,” I offered. With a look of relief, the mom yelled thanks over her shoulder and ran with her little guy.
Once she got back, we had moved a little, but not much. After about 15 minutes total, we made it close enough to see into the hall itself.
That’s when we noticed something. It was the wrong bride and the wrong groom. Well, they might have been quite right for each other, but they weren’t the ones we wanted to see.
We accosted some lady in the hall and asked, “Is there another church of this denomination in this town?”
“Oh sure,” she replied. “just two blocks down the street.”
So, we pulled up to the next church building, and got out. Luckily the line was shorter, and we got to see the bride, groom and their families.
Then because we hadn’t thought to call ahead and get our names down, the wait was too long for the restaurant we wanted.
So, dressed in our nice reception attire, we ate at the local Subway attached to a gas station instead. While I would have liked my nicer dinner, I’m sure the mom in front of us at the first reception was grateful we were at the wrong reception, just at the right time, so her son wouldn’t have wet pants for the rest of the night.