There was always going to be some sort of hitch with me getting to the wedding yesterday, there pretty much is whenever I have to be anywhere on time.
The plan was to drive to Witney to get a lift from there to the wedding venue with Charlie, whose floor I was crashing on after the festivities. But just as I was waking up my dad shouted up to me that my car’s MOT had expired at the end of July so they were taking it down to have it done. My car arrived back pretty quickly for an MOT but it had no petrol. So my dad filled it up slightly from a petrol can he had lying around but it wouldn’t get me very far and I would need some more, which was another delay.
When I arrived in Witney I got lost looking for Charlie’s house and was there 25 minutes later than I needed to be. Within two minutes of arrival I had changed into my suit and we headed off. We picked up Andy, who I also made late, and the wedding venue turned out to be half an hour further away than we anticipated which wasn’t helped by getting stuck behind a slow moving car for a large proportion of the journey.
The ceremony started at bang on time at 1pm. These things are supposed to start late, everyone knows that. We arrived about three minutes before the end of the ceremony and I got a disapproving look from Ollie, who had just signed the register. We did get there just in time to see him and Faye officially announced as husband and wife. So for one of the most important moments in the life of one of my best friends, which I had travelled hundreds of miles for, I missed ultimately because of my ineptitude with time. I’m sure there’s some comedy material I can get out of this.
I apologised to the newlyweds when I got the chance, explaining about the MOT but then won points back for mentioning how I had travelled all the way down from Edinburgh especially for the day.
It did turn out to be a great day, though, after my shaky start. It was excellent to see so many of my uni friends together again; many memories from our ridiculous student days were brought up which led to many laughs. It’s nice to see so many of them happy and settling down, in contrast with the absurd life direction I have chosen. I didn’t end up drinking much more than six pints and what I did drink was nullified by stuffing my face with food and sweating profusely.
At one point later on when I took my suit jacket and rolled the sleeves of my shirt, I caught a glimpse of myself in my shirt and tie in a mirror and I looked how I did when I was a reporter for a local paper. That was the life I left behind two years ago to pursue comedy, it wasn’t a life I enjoyed too much.
Tomorrow I head back to Edinburgh for the remaining six days of the Fringe.
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