wedding night in the hood

by underswansea


The couple next door was married today. She is a shy women. I’ve offered her vegetables several times and she always answers by saying she just went shopping and has plenty.  The guy is a a little french man who goes at everything balls to the walls. Wrecking shit and collecting shit looks like his specialty. Every time I look he has more snowmobiles, ATV’s, lawn equipment and chainsaws, all which he overrevs until smoking.

I work late. When I got home it was a full on party. The music wasn’t bad. Lisa even said so. Avicci, Kid Rock, Neil Diamond. It was good to see. You only get married once. Even if you get married twice or three times, it only counts once. The other times are partnerships or indiscretions, things that didn’t work out or learning experiences. I’ve talked to enough bitter divorcees to know the story. And the story is always the same.

I grabbed a beer headed outside to enjoy the seeping music. I told Lisa it was like getting the room over the bar at the old Heritage Inn. Boy did that take us back. We both agreed, they should have their night. Give er shit. And that’s what I said when the neighbour told me, it might get loud.

Good on them. A couple left and walked the street past me drinking a beer. Cripes they were pissed. Both of them. Equally. Not so strange I guess. They stopped to kiss under the street light. Weaving. She on her heels. He with low hanging pants. They were a site to behold. I hoped, for their sake, they didn’t have far to go. They made it another 50 yards or so when she got cold. She tried to kiss him again. But he refused. He probably wanted to get her home, knowing his boner was soon to be as drunk as him. He tried to help her put a jacket on and they both fell to the pavement.

Shit I thought. I was going to have to give them a ride. I looked for a bucket she could hang on to if the spins overtook her in the truck. Thankfully, they weren’t far enough away from the party that a semi-sober guest saw them and came to the rescue. He pulled a truck up and they both fell again getting in.

The cops showed up shortly after and they shut the music down. It pissed me off. Invermere has grown. This is the inner city. The old houses are next to be eaten up by the downtown core. A kid was murdered just down the street. The head Mounty, who has a flare about him, said the kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That pissed me off. No doubt, I’ll be the last guy hanging on, restaurants and rubber tomahawk galleries beside my shitty house. So let them have their wedding. Let them play music of various degrees of shittyness until the wee hours of the morning. Fuck we hear it from downtown anyway. Those cops are being led by their nose told what to do.

My twenty toilets went well tonight.