1: Outside our hotel
We stayed at the Imperial Hotel just off Main St. in Flushing. As basically the only
single people at the wedding, of course Aaron and I had to stay together and act as a
couple (OF LOSERS) the whole weekend.
Boy, was this part of New
York filthy. Unlike Manhattan, trash littered the street everywhere you went. There was
a subway station right down the street which we never used (goofy suburbanites ended up
driving all over Manhattan).
2: On the subway
Our first full day in New York was Saturday. After Dim Sum in the morning, Kevin (the groom)
drove us to Chinatown in Manhattan in his parents' minivan. He and the groomsmen went to
take care of their tuxes; while the five of us (Aaron, Bernie, Laurie, Iris, and me) got
on the subway heading towards the Met. Had to make one transfer, which I screwed up by
directing us to transfer at a station where you couldn't transfer underground. Oh well.
Rode the other subway up to 79th and walked four blocks to Central Park and The Met. Spent
ALL AFTERNOON in the museum - the suburbanites alternated between a pregnancy-related
excuse (pretty good) and not wanting to walk in the rain (pretty lame). Four hours is way
too many paintings to look at in one day.
3: Meeting the geeks^H^H^H^H^Hfolks
After leaving the Met at about 5:15, I walked with the other four to Park Ave., where I
noticed that we were only 400 away from the street address I was supposed to be at for
the dinner meeting with
the
Kibologists.
We adjourned via subway
to an Afghan restaraunt in the vicinity of Greenwich Village, where I chose a dish
(incorrectly according to unidentified kibologists) which wasn't spicy at all despite what
the evil menu told me. After that, I bailed on them in order to try to attend the
bachelors' party (which sucked), while they went on to do some sort of donkey-lovin'. You can
follow them on their story via red's page
Meanwhile I caught a cab back a dozen blocks or so to the restaraunt where the other folks
were having a big dinner on the corner of Canal and Bowery.
4: Outside the wedding banquet in Chinatown
We spent a good half hour trying to convince reluctant lusers that we weren't going to
have a bachelors' party (a lie) and then drove around for an hour in the minivan, including
a silly search for gas on Manhattan (they noticed the fuel light was on as we were passing
near Times Square). We adjourned to the 8th floor lounge in the Marriot Grand Marquis, the
hotel in which I stayed during my last trip to New York on IBM's dollar. Several drinks
later we somehow convinced the groom to go with us to the BP while Bernie & Laurie caught
the 7-train back to Flushing. That's where Saturday's tour ends - there are no pictures of
the exercise in pathetic futility called Legs Diamond.
5: In the Sheraton lounge
Sunday morning we finally managed to hook up with Jim and Carie and ended up having
breakfast at an IHOP. Then
we spent the whole afternoon drinking beer and watching football in a sports bar
in Queens (INSTEAD OF GOING INTO FRIGGIN' MANHATTAN). Aaron and Laurie have now been to
New York for about four days without seeing much at all of the island. What a bunch of sad
losers. It poured while we were at the sports bar, and we waited about 30 extra minutes for
the cab trip back to the hotel - then changed and started predrinking in the lounge at the
Sheraton where we finally met Duane. Turned out we got bum information from somebody who
told Duane we were supposed to stay out of the way until 6:25; when we finally went up to
the wedding we were in BIG TROUBLE for being late.
6: Wedding Ceremony
The wedding was kinda hard to follow for me. Many small children making a lot of noise; and badly translated
Chinese phrases which didn't seem to make a whole lot of sense to me. But it was short, and Zorrik
did an excellent job as substitute ringbearer after the original's bladder couldn't handle
the extreme pressure. I believe he was the oldest ringbearer in wedding history!
Kevin and Jeanne looked fabulous of course.
7: Around the big drunken idiot table, part one
Then it was time for the reception (after hitting the open bar hard a couple of times while
standing around outside). Our table contained all of the people (outside the grooms' party,
which was right next to us) who were likely to be big drunken idiots. This was probably
a very good plan. Notice the sodas on the table - who exactly do they think they are
dealing with here?
8: Around the big drunken idiot table, part two
One of Kevin's friends who we didn't know and his date ended up filling the last two spots at our
table. I think we scared him off liquor forever. Probably for the best.
9: The wedding party at the reception
In the second shot, you can see Roger, Seeling, and Newton (Roger and Newton were
ushers). These shots are in here to show that I did indeed take some nice pictures
of the reception even during the throes of drunkenness.
10: Garter-related shenanigans
The first wedding I went to after college (Jim's), I fought hard for the garter and both
Aaron and I were pissed that he didn't throw it in our direction. Since then I got it at
two weddings in a row and the magic is gone; I didn't even try this time, but Kevin threw
it straight at Aaron. The DJ was heavily into wedding ritual - first I had to hold Aaron's
arms behind his head while he tried to get the garter up the leg of the girl who caught the
bouquet, then I got kicked off the stage and she had to finish the job in reverse. Hilarity
ensued.
11: Dancin' fools
Yes, I did do some dancing, but nobody got my camera and took any pictures.
12: Closin' up shop
Things were winding down at this point. Or so you would assume. Notice how little of the
soda was drank (drunk? drunken? drinkinged?). Also notice the full Corona. We are doing
a forensic analysis on the bottle now in order to determine who will be punished for this
alcohol abuse.
13: Aftermath
This is my favorite picture of the wedding. The happy couple with two big drunken idiots,
one of whom is trying to protect his eyes from the flash but whose aim is off by about
30 degrees, with a classy-looking drink stain on his shirt; the other one still doing the
stupid face. We left the wedding and hit the sports bar again, but the perky Irish chick
was gone. That part of the evening is kinda hazy for me; and then we went to bed and then
Aaron puked twice on the plane the next day on the way back from Houston to Austin, The End.
