(We return to KC's Nuptial Adventure with Dirty Mike, KC's old college roommate.)
We were at a Chinese hall for a Chinese wedding. I was determined to stay relatively sober for this wedding, so I could remember it, given that I would be leaving the country in two weeks and wouldn't see my friends for a year.
The nice thing about Chinese weddings (besides the food and free drinks) is the fact that they don't have any religious stuff that takes a lot of time. All they did at this particular wedding was a tea ceremony, which might have lasted two hours or fifteen minutes—I don't know, because by that point, the Beam and Diets had started catching up to me.
Pretty soon I decided to try and take shots with my old swim coach, who told me he had to drive. So I figured I might as well try to get the Hot Asian Bartender drunk and see if she wanted to bang in the ninja room or something.
HAB: I'm not really allowed to do shots.
KC: But I'm wearing a suit.
HAB: (Blank stare)
KC: And really handsome and charming.
HAB: It's really frowned upon here.
KC: Yeah, exactly. It's frowned upon. It's not against the rules.
HAB: I guess you have a point.
KC: Do you really want to go home tonight and say, "Well, one more boring ass wedding finished and in the can." Or do you want to wake up two days from now and say, "Holy shit. That's probably the most fun and most sex I've ever had."
HAB: I don't know.
KC: Precisely.
HAB: My name is Gail.
KC: Hot.
So, Gail poured us some shots of Jameson (for me). Then the exotic Gail poured us some fruity shit (for her). I started feeling fired up, so I figured I needed to eat something more… because, again, I wanted to remember this wedding. And I wanted to put the spurs to Gail, Hot Assed Bartender. Then I turned around and met face to face with Dirty Mike's dad.
PAPA DIRTY: KC, I'm so glad you made the trip back to New York for my son's wedding.
KC: Not a problem. I wouldn't miss it for the world.
PD: And I want to especially thank you for completely avoiding my daughter.
KC: Not a problem either. I'm working on this bartender, Gail.
PD: Good choice. Especially because I really don't want you with my daughter.
KC: And I don't want to piss you off. Even though I tried to sign your son up for the Marines one time. And convinced him to bet on the Bears for that Super Bowl. And told him to have his bachelor party in Vegas. And—
PD: Yeah yeah. Well, since all that's settled, let's take a shot. Barkeep, two shots of Jack please.
KC: Uh, I just took some shots. I was actually…
PD: Don't be such a fuckin' pussy! I thought you were some professional alcoholic guy. My son's getting married! (HAB sets down the shots) Two more on top of that please. And one for yourself. And be nice to this rugged gentleman. If you go home with him, then I don't have to worry about him seducing my daughter.
KC: Fuck.
PD: Are you going to take that shot or just be a pussy?
(We take shots)
KC: I'm actually, uh…
PD: We've got another shot here. Pussy.
KC: I was actually, um, trying to, um, remember… this one. I actually almost died at a wedding before. And the groom's father threatened to kill me at another. Seriously.
PD: Oh yeah? Blabbity blah, blah blah blabbity blah. You're a pussy.
KC: Fuck. Fine.
(Two more go down)
PD: You're less of a pussy than I thought.
KC: I really, really need to eat something. Like cake. Or nine hours of sleep. Or something.
(I start walking towards my table)
FRED: Dude! We've been looking for you. We figured since it was open bar, we'd do a few shots.
KC: Um, I did some. They hit me. Hard.
FRED: Don't be such a pussy! You're moving to Korea! Do some shots! Bartender! (To KC) That bartender's fucking hot. You should bang her. (To Hot Asian Bartender) Hey! Can we get eight shots please? And one for you?
KC: Gurg.
FRED: So have you worked on your speech?
KC: For what? I figured you were going to give a speech…
FRED: Because you're Dirty Mike's old roommate and swim team buddy and shit.
KC: Yeah, but you're the best man.
FRED: That's just a title. Here, take this shot.
(Another shot goes down)
KC: But, um. I might throw up.
FRED: So man up. Puke ‘n rally. Isn't that your slogan.
KC: My slogan, um, is, um…. You're best at something. Or something.
FRED: Dude, you've got to get fired up. For your speech. Let's get another shot. Two more shots please.
KC: No.
FRED: C'mon. I'm sure you can fuck the bartender. And everybody knows you're funnier when you're drunk.
KC: You're the best man.
(More shots)
FRED: Because I sure as hell am not giving a speech. (KC makes a face) Are you thinking about something.
KC: Trying to use fleeting brainpower. For a thought.
FRED: What are you thinking? Maybe that time you threw his phone in the toilet? Or pretended to be a mugger?
KC: This isn't really a traditional wedding. So we really don't have to worry about wedding shit.
FRED: That's a great plan. I can't believe you thought of that.
KC: Thought of what?
FRED: Not giving speeches.
KC: I thought of that?
FRED: You literally just said that.
KC: Said what?
FRED: Get this man some shots!
I woke up 15 hours later. On a floor. My dress shirt inside out. Grass stains on my pants. Vest torn. I wore one shoe and one sock, but on opposite feet. Suit jacket nowhere to be found, but when discovered, had thirty books of matches in it. A dog barked at me.
KC: Oh fuck. What the hell happened?
I stood up and fell onto a couch. I saw Dirty Mike's sister—The Sister That Shall Not Be Touched By KC—still asleep.
KC: Oh double fuck.
SIS: Hello you.
KC: Oh no no no no no.
SIS: What's wrong?
KC: Um, I didn't… Um, we didn't… Um.
SIS: What? Have sex?
KC: Um. Yeah.
SIS: Ha! You could barely stand, let alone do anything else.
KC: Oh. Well, I was going to ask if anybody shaved my eyebrows, drew dicks on my face, or put their balls on my forehead and sent photos to my mom or anything.
SIS: Sure. We're all heading to brunch in fifteen minutes. You should come.
(Brain walks in)
BRAIN: How are you feeling, pussy?
KC: Um. Not bad to be honest.
BRAIN: That's probably because you've been asleep since midnight. You didn't even make it to the bars.
KC: So, what happened?
BRAIN: You don't remember?
KC: Ah fuck.