We got there eventually

Reading about CL's post on running late to weddings reminded me about of a little story that happened to us a few years ago. I know some of you would remember this story, but others might like to hear it.

We were on our way to a wedding in the country for some lovely friends of ours, which was quite a few hours away so we were making the most of it and staying away for the weekend.

I packed both our bags and NB loaded the car. Because we lived three flights up, I helped take the bags out to the car. At the bottom of the stairs, NB realised he didn't have the keys. Just as I shut the front door... We contacted the estate agent to see if they could lend us the spare keys. They were only going to be open for 20 minutes, so we flew down in a taxi.

We then got back, loaded the rest of the stuff in the car, returned the keys and were finally on the road.

When we got to the town, we realised the address of the hotel we had was wrong. That was ok, we just had to ring them. We then found out the phone number was also wrong! We had absolutely no idea where to go. We wandered up and down the main drag of this town and eventually realised where to go.

We raced inside the hotel and got changed. This is when we realised that I hadn't packed a shirt for NB to go with his suit.

Fuck.

We raced back to the hotel reception and explained to the owners of the hotel. The lovely wife said NB could borrow a shirt from her husband. The only problem was, her husband was a good 150kg, whereas NB is a slim lad.

We went up to the main drag to see if we could buy a shirt instead. The only thing was, this town had a pub, an op shop, a cafe and a visitors centre. We raced into the visitors centre to see if they could recommend anything. The lovely lady there suggested that the only option we had was for her to phone Bea who runs the op shop and get her back out to open the op shop which had closed for the day.

We then realised we had no money, so I had to go to the cash machine in the pub. I don't reckon a girl had walked into this pub in a century. Blokes with no teeth stared at me as I went in to get some money out.

Soon enough, a brown 1970s Holden Kingswood came around the corner with Bea at the wheel. Well, we guessed it was Bea, as she was so little she couldn't see over the steering wheel.

We then raided the racks of mens shirts in the op shop for something suitable. We had three options. Paisley 70s shirts, yellowing bowls shirts or a short sleeved business shirt. Much to NB's embarrassment, we went with the short sleeved shirt a la Homer Simpson. It was about $2, but we paid about $1.10, as that was all we had besides the $20 I had taken out of the cash machine - which Bea wouldn't take as it was far too much money.

By this stage, we knew much to our disappointment we had completely missed the ceremony. I felt so awful.

We finally made it to the reception. It was a cracker of a wedding and surely one we weren't soon to forget.

On another note, we have discovered this. Bloody fantastic, with several people from either Little Britain or Love Actually - right up my alley.