I saw the forecast for Paso Robles roughly 48 hours before the wedding and instantly launched into tirade aimed at anyone who would listen. It was supposed to be 108 degrees on Friday and 107 on Saturday, and I was going be wearing not only a tie, but a jacket. A jacket. I wasn’t sure I could be out in 108 degree heat in a bathing suit, much less formal wear. What shocked me more, though, was the reaction I got from my fellow would-be wedding guests.
“It’s going to be 108 degrees!” I announced to Irf, Julia, and Steve the day before we left.
I waited to hear shrieks of horror, but instead was greeted with this…
“I guess that’s better than 68 degrees,” Julia said, while Steve and Irf shrugged their shoulders with indifference.
Once I wrapped my head around how anybody who was familiar with the concept of “room temperature” could possibly make that claim, I basically didn’t stop voicing my outrage until we left the next morning. This was thrilling for everyone involved, I’m sure.
Irf and I took the bus to the local Enterprise on Friday morning. Due to the temperatures we would be facing later in the day, my primary concern was that the air conditioning worked on the Dodge Avenger I was renting. We picked up the rest of the crew, packed up the cars, and then…stopped.
Irf, Julia, and Steve’s car was at the gas pump, when Irf waved us over. Brendan went to see what was going on and came back to report that rental car #2 was “not taking gas”.
The occupants of car #1, Jack, Brendan, and myself, found this to be puzzling. Because the car was apparently “broken”, it appeared that crew number 2 was going to have to exchange their lemon for a road-worthy vehicle that could get them down the coast. As it turns out, the gas tank was full. In Irfan’s defense, the woman at Enterprise had told him that there was only 1/8th of a tank left. In actuality, it was 7/8 full. This was the first of many bonehead moves on the trip.
We cruised through the valley with sprawling fields on either side of us for miles. At one point, somebody in crew number one mentioned ominously that “you can see how fires would just spread all over the place”. This was approximately one week before the State of California caught on fire.
We made good time to Paso Robles, so we stopped for a little Mexican food before checking in at the hotel. This was our first experience with the extreme heat, 
which I found to be unpleasant, but bearable. Immediately after finishing lunch, we thought it would be a good idea to get lost a few times – just for good measure, since we hadn’t gotten lost at all on the way down.
Once we finally got to the hotel, we were delighted to see our spacious rooms, complete with gift bags on the pillows which featured an assortment of chocolates and Frito-Lay products. This was fitting, since eighty percent of the Huftons have worked at Frito-Lay in some capacity. Jeremy loves Funyuns more than anyone I know. In fact, I’m not actually sure that I know anyone else who even likes Funyuns.
Just as we were getting ready to leave for the rehearsal, I thought to myself, “My outfit would look a lot better with some sandals instead of shoes”. Yes, there is a lot of “outfit” discussion when I’m talking to myself. Just then, Hufton knocked on the door and delivered my groomsman gift – a pair of sandals. This was not only
great for my outfit, but it cleared up the reason why Hufton had sent out an email a few months earlier which asked my shoe size. When I responded with a “12ish”, I never heard back, which made me feel violated somehow. Now it all made sense.
At the rehearsal dinner, we got to eat some delicious food and meet with people like Alaska Josh, Josh Funtuazzi, and Josh Beckett. Okay, not really Josh Beckett, but three Joshes seemed more noteworthy. We played bocce ball till the sun went down and then headed to the Crooked Kilt, a local watering hole. There, we were treated to Jager bombs – Red Bull and Jagermeister, for you rookies -- by Josh Funtuazzi. Some were perplexed at how much it tasted like Robitussen, but I had felt the wrath 
of the Jagerbomb before. Somehow, nobody got too drunk and we all made it back to the hotel relatively early. We thought that it would be a good idea to get the guys together and drink beers in the hotel, but most of the group barely made it past their first beer before falling asleep. Maybe it
was the jet lag, maybe it was because we were out of training, but either way, we called it a night by 1:00 AM.
The next day – the Big Day – we went to breakfast at a greasy spoon-type restaurant, where Brendan got a coffee cup with lipstick on it. Yikes. We thought that maybe our middle-aged waitress was trying to send him a message, but it turns out the mug was just dirty. We went back to the hotel for some swimming and napping, then got ready to suit up and face the heat.
When we arrived at the vineyard, the folks there were very understanding regarding our overheating issue, being in suits and all. They let us stay in an air-conditioned storage house just a few hundred yards from the wedding site. We even got to go into the walk-in refrigerator, which was literally sixty to seventy degrees cooler than the outside temperature.
A crowd was gathered on the hillside where the ceremony was about to be held. The groomsmen stood in a row as the bridesmaids walked
into view and over to their positions, one at a time. I think we were the first group of groomsmen to ever heckle the bridesmaids during the ceremony.
“Oh God, you’re gonna fall. Don’t fall,” I heard in a loud whisper from one of my fellow groomsmen.
“Everyone is looking at you. Don’t do anything weird, they’re all looking at you,” they said to the next bridesmaid.
This was shocking, but not too shocking. After all, 
this was coming from guys who dressed in drag while attending a Prom Party just to upset the hostess. Expect the unexpected, you know?
More unexpected: Jeremy’s voice started to crack a little as he was reading his vows. I feared that this would set off a chain reaction, causing the right side of the altar to be filled with a bunch of blubbering groomsmen. I’m not sure what I expected my inner monologue to be like during the ceremony, but I certainly didn’t expect it to be anything like “Brian, don’t cry. Don’t you cry! Hold it together…hold it together. Okay, you’re okay.” Everyone did manage to hold it together and Jeremy and Maren eventually exited to the sounds of the Michigan fight song.
After some more fantastic food, the dance music started pumping and the wine started flowing. Irf, Jack, and Brendan took over the dance floor early on, with some of us stragglers joining in later. Jeremy did a version of the Electric Slide that would more accurately be called The Hesitant Slide of the Unwilling, but it was his wedding, so he had to.
During “Bust a Move” Jack and Julia both pulled out some serious dance moves, each getting an individual shout-out from the DJ.
“This guy has been waiting to use that move all night,” the DJ shouted after Jack pulled a little alternating-hand-on-the-ground move that left me legitimately impressed.
Julia took the floor by storm, causing the more casual dancers to step aside to let her do her thing.
“She’s pretty fly for a white girl!” the DJ announced. Julia was apparently so caught up in her dance moves that she didn’t even hear the DJ talking about her. When we told her about his comments later that night, she thought that it “sounded a little racist.” Julia has never heard of The Offspring.
After the reception, we made an encore appearance at The Crooked Kilt and eventually split up in different directions with some going one of three hotels for some post-post-reception drinks. And just when you thought you were done, you'll have to wait to read Part III, which features: ridiculous detours! Gas station hijinks! More messing with sleeping people!
# posted by Brian @ 11:57 PM
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