A night to remember by Djo-Djo

Your wedding is supposed to be the most romantic day of your life, right?

Let me tell you about how my beautiful day ended.

The culprit in this story is Hyatt...

We decided to reserve a hotel block at the Hyatt. It was newly renovated, had couches in all the rooms-just lovely. The deal was that if our guests book a certain number of rooms, we will get a free room and free shuttle to and from the reception hall. I thought to myself-this is going to be awesome. We will encourage all of our friends to drink responsibly by staying at the hotel and taking the shuttle to and from the hall. We easily met the required number of rooms.

The wedding was great. After a brief face-off with the DJ, we gather up all of our gifts and head for the hotel... only no shuttle. 15 minutes go by and still no shuttle. 30 min. I call-nothing.

After 1 hour we finally arrive at said Hyatt hotel via extremely late shuttle. While I managed to fight off bridezilla tendencies up until this point, that quickly flew out the window as I stormed the front desk and demanded to know what took so long. The scared girl behind the counter says, "Ma'am we're really sorry. We have another wedding party tonight and we are having a hard time keeping them under control." I look to my right and I see said wedding party boozing in the lobby. I storm off to the left only to slip... on a pile of vomit.

But it gets better.... Fortunately, I have cat-like reflexes that kept me from tumbling into the vomit.... Unfortunately, one of my wedding guests smells the vomit, and vomits herself right next to moi, said bride(zilla).

I don't notice that said wedding guest has vomited on herself and I immediately go on a tyraid, saying that doing vomiting in public is "trashy" and that disgusting (which I still firmly believe-come on people-make it to a bathroom!)... all in presence of said wedding guest.

I take off my vomit stained dress and head to bed. One week later, I work up the courage to get the dress cleaned. I cant bare to say the words to my trusted dry cleaner, so I pass a note that says, "the stain on the bottom of my dress is vomit." It was as if I passed a robbery note at a bank. I later attempt to clarify that it is not my vomit, but the damage was done. I got the look-you know the one that people give you when they think you vomited on your own wedding dress. Yeah-did I mention they have to hand-clean all of their wedding dresses?

How romantic!

-Djo Djo