Dearest Wedding Participant:
Like an avalanche of noise and lights, the gambling stench that is Bob Stupid’s Vegas World crushed in upon our beings as we exited
the elevator. Stepping out on that wine colored carpet you were immediately greeted by yourself. A horribly misfigured decapitated image in one of ten million fun house mirrors that bob in his ultimate decorating wisdom thought he could literally substitute for paint. Looking out on the waves of humanity that sat mindlessly at flashing machines made me wonder about where our lives were really heading. Was I truly one of these gambling zombies pulling a lever with one hand while protecting whats left of the rent money in a little plastic bowl with the other. Naaaah I thought to myself. We’re way better than these raunchy scum, after all we were the highly regarded Cordan wedding party. We may be thoroughly drunk and close to an alcohol induced death, but that’s only because that’s the way we wanted it. Our motley crew stumbled forward, taking seven to eight steps between Huge white tumbling dice that littered every yard of Bob’s carpet. And of course where there weren’t tumbling dice etched into the carpet, there was Bob Stupak’s name. The Polish Maverick was not shy about putting his name on his stuff. Putting your name on your stuff is cool if your stuff is something like a baseball mit or a pair of socks. But putting your name on your hotel and carpets and dealers ties I think is getting a bit obsessive.
On this particular morning I’m sure that I’m not the only one who was glad that the coffee shop was only a few yards away from the elevators. It gave you less planets to circumnavigate, fewer constellations to orbit and of course a minimum of polyester scum humans that you had to actually bump into while making your way about Bob’s personal shrine to the cosmos. Besides all this I’m sure I wasn’t the only person juggling a massive hangover after an incredibly hard night of drinking. After all we were the Cordan wedding party.
We trudged our way into Bob’s coffee shop taking up as much of the front lobby as possible. A very fat pasty white vegas hostess woman moved up cautiously to greet us. She was initially fearful of the sheer size of our party, but that was only the start of it. As she walked up within speaking distance she began nervously gazing from side to side trying to pick out the obvious leader of the Cordan wedding party. We were a solid mass from side to side. A drunken fuming Berlin Wall if you will. Suddenly our leader emerged. It was a slow and misleading departure from our huddled mass; almost a pre-planned manuever on his part. But there he was out in the forefront representing us in his image. Our leaders name: Tony Narcisse.
Never mind that Tony single handedly drank a bottle of Seagrams seven by himself. And never mind that he was working on about half an hour sleep. None of that mattered at the time. What mattered now was the moment at hand. Tony stepped out and in his jolly pumpkin head sort of way greeting the wide eyed hostess with a wavering hello.
How many she timidly asked?
Tony stared around blankly and then told her how beautiful she was and how the wonderful incandesent lighting highlited by an occassional flicker from the outter casino made her look like a goddess sent down by the God’s to tease mortal men like himself.
“Huh” she politely retorted with a smile that begged for security to come over and assist in the seating process.
This is when I felt compelled to come to her rescue. Not so much because I cared about her, but more because left to his own manuverings Tony would surely get us kicked out and without a quick fix of breakfast I would be nautious the rest of the day.
“Don’t mind him mam, he’s still buzzed from last night I said matter of factly. We’ll be a group of about 15 once everyone gets down here” She looked at me skeptically.
Tony decided this was the time to chirp in once again. “They’re white he snickered, they’re all white, but don’t tell anything to the contrary because they don’t know that.”
I moved to his side and grabbed the scruff of his neck. “He knows not what he says, he’s only a puppet and I am his puppeteer”
For some reason she liked this little charade, like maybe it was somehow less threatening.
“Watch” I said as I started girating my hand on his neck as if working the levers inside of Tony’s hollow head. I began to formulate words
for him but it was too late. Tony was a frazzled raw nerve that had been severed by one too many shots. His mouth and his brain circuitry had been fused together. The lag time between thought conception and auditory realization was much much shorter than I thought was possible. Before I knew it he was talking in a weird french accent reaching for her hand telling her how he wanted to make mad passionate love with her. Oh to hear her white butt cheeks squeaking along on the hard cold linoleum of the kitchen floor.
Oh my I thought to myself, I wonder if Carl’s Jr. across the street serves a good breakfast, because there’s no way this chick is ever going to let us cross over the threshold into their establishment of fine dining.
Much to my surprise she loosened up. Maybe its because most of the group was giggling and she felt safer about this rather robust mad man. Or perhaps the idea of Tony up on top on the cold linoleum
while cooks and busboys swaggered by was disturbingly attractive. For whatever reason we were seated in a heartbeat. eight or nine of us at one table and another five or six of us at a corner booth.
Immediately Tony started ordering VO shots from the keno girl. They had nice legs, a tray and bunch of note pads, but the last thing they were thinking about was getting this demented gambling wildman more alcohol to bend his mind. I sat down with the Clark family and Sandy hoping to stay close enough to check out the action but far enough away to turn my head the other way when something like a plate was broken on the hard formica table or a glass was shattered against a wall.
Well to make a long breakfast short, the young busboy, Josh told us that he had never hokied up more food from the floor in all of his 4 days of working at Bob Stupid’s. But all in all things ended up o.k. thanks in part to Adam, who tipped the waiter a considerable amount after winning over 600 dollars at the craps table.
All descriptive narrative aside; This is only a random fleeting memory of the wonderful time we had with all of you on what probably will be the funnest day in both our lives. Both Dana and I hope that you had as much fun celebrating with us as we did celebrating with you. The wedding itself was wonderful, but equally as terriffic was getting some of our closest friends and family members together from all over the country. With a start like this, how in the world could our lives go wrong.
I think Bobbi said it best when she commented how this was the most fun she had ever had at a wedding. Or maybe it was best summarized by Adam who started the wedding toasts by announcing that most of those gathered had gone to jail with one another at some time or another. Or perhaps the all encompassing statement by Kevin “the daws” Dawson was the most memorable: Wherever I go there I am.
Or maybe learning that Joan was really a black woman named Odessa who was trapped in a white woman’s body was what it was all about for us. Or perhaps it was the neck ties on the dealers that said he’s Polish. Or maybe just seeing how great Buffy looked after shedding 25 pounds. Maybe it was Tony walking in on Muff and Jeff claiming to be hotel police or maybe it was Tony’s retort that he was actually there pulling three Chinese men off of Muffin preserving her cherished virginity. Or perhaps it was Melanies new found individuality, or Renee’s effervescent energy. Or maybe it was Dave’s decision to stay much later than expected or Mike’s return to a disgusting partying form that reminded many of us of another time at Scarff Street. How about Bruce and his killer wedding present with channel six on one side and our wedding date on the other. Or how about Joe, Jackie and baby Riley who prove that a happy marriage and lots of fun don’t end just cause you have a kid. Holly’s unending support as well as OP and Sandy’s Ubiquitous presence in times of stress.
All in all, We hope this letter finds you and your empty wallets in fine spirits. It’s been 3 days now since the glorious event and we still laugh every time we think of all the great things we did not only as a couple but as a group.
Thanks once again for coming and we’ll be talking to you all very very soon.
With all of our love:
A.C. & dana.