Jonola14

SJ WEDDING

It was like a scene from Four Weddings. “Sh*t” I said, as the clock ticked ever quicker, the minutes flicking by with absolutely no consideration for those of us still struggling to get dressed and leave the house in enough time to travel the 50 miles to the church for the cousin’s wedding.

“Sh*t”.

“Sh*t”.

‘SLAM’ went the door as I bounded down the concrete stairs, tie flapping wildly in my wake and rucksack slowly dropping its contents everywhere. I had a long way to go and a short time to get there, but if the traffic was kind, I’d make it with a few minutes to spare.

“Sh*t”. The M25 was playing up again. There were queues of cars at a standstill, no-one was going anywhere. I naturally assumed that Heathrow was the cause and banked on a pick-up of speed once I’d past it. Wrong. “Sh*t”.

“GET OUT THE BL**DY WAY” I yelled at ear-shattering volume, “YAAAAAARRRGGGH”. My frustrations were getting the better of me and I began to take it out on my fellow motorists. The time ticked on, and it was clear that I would struggle to make the church on time. “Sh*t”, I said, as it dawned on me that I was also late for the last wedding I went to.

Eventually I got to the church, fifteen minutes late, slammed the car door shut, forgot to lock it, and trotted for the gate. “I know I’m late” I panted to the man there, “bl**dy M25’s a nightmare”. “Not as late as the bride” he said. My eyes lit up, I smiled gleefully and almost hugged him.

The rest of the wedding was splendid fun - a combination of family and people I used to work with. The highlight of the evening reception was probably watching my stepfather hit his head on every single one of the thirty-odd low beams as he crossed the room to get another cucumber sandwich.