A friend of the Wife got married Sunday. In Florida. And we went.
It was a trip we had sort of planned for a bit. But, because of the circumstances, we weren't 100% sure we were going. You see, the wedding was in Ft. Walton Beach. That's in Florida. And it's five hours away, according to Yahoo! And it was on a Sunday night. Not afternoon, but night.
Anyway, because of the schedule, we'd have to take a day off Monday to make the trip. Because I didn't want to drive back late Sunday night and go to work Monday morning.
So, this weekend, we went to Florida. We left at 10:30 and got there at 1:30.
And, no, it wasn't a three-hour drive. We picked up two hours ... it seems ... because of a couple of things. First, I drove the speed limit ... or maybe up to five MPH above when with the general flow of traffic ... and Yahoo! Maps timing is actually longer than true driving time. The other thing was, we left Eastern time and arrived in Central time. So, four hours it was.
On the way down, the only thing really unusual was this guy riding in a boat on I-10.
No, really. He was in a boat. And the boat was in the back of a pickup truck. I got a picture on my phone to prove it. Not a good picture. Because it's not a great camera on the phone, and because I'm not a great photographer, and because I was driving when I took it. Other than that, an uneventful drive.
After we got checked into the hotel, we went to find the site of the wedding, and ate supper. Of course, being on the Florida gulf coast, we decided to eat seafood. Which, of course meant Captain D's. Really.
The wedding was in Ft. Walton Beach, FL. On the beach. In the sand. There were three people wearing shoes. I was one of them. The other two were the photographer and the priest.
Oh, and only two wore their Sunday outfits. Naturally, I was one of them. The priest was the other. Oh, the bride was all dressed up. But I doubt she'll wear that outfit next Sunday.
The only thing I had never seen at a wedding was the fact that they gave all the people there rocks to throw. Really. Rocks. In a bag. To throw.
"Ah, a Palestinean wedding," I thought. But no. We were to throw them at the ocean. Not at the lovely bride and her soldier-husband. So, we threw rocks in the ocean.
Anyway, the wedding went off without a hitch. And the reception seemed to go okay. There were a couple of ladies that started dancing by themselves ... and you never know how that's going to turn out. No major problems that I saw.
There was a scare before we got there ... because of the weather. Remember, Tropical Storm Alberto was an influence Sunday. But not a major one. Things got windy, and my hair looked like a surprised grey squirrel, but nothing much worse than that.
While I'm not looking forward to more storms ... particularly after last year ... one lady was excited. You see, the mother of the groom is from Arizona. Tuscon, I think. And she doesn't see rain much, she said. She was hoping to see some rain before she left Tuesday. Maybe she got her fill of it.
Anyway, it was a pretty wedding, the bride was beautiful, and everyone seemed to have a good time. And I don't want to do that again any time soon.