We’re going to a wedding on Saturday, well a wedding night time “do” anyway, and once again I will drive my brother and his wife and once again he will get very drunk and disgrace himself while I sit and drink orange juice and try and stop him doing stupid things.
Jon, who may be reading this, is marrying for the second time, he has learned a lesson from his first marriage and the evening “do” that he invited us to that time, for once again I drove and our Ned get very drunk.
And he cost Jon a small fortune…
You see they had done that thing where they place a small disposable camera on each table and ask the guests to take their own photos of the event, memories for the happy couple for the use of.
Its a good idea, cheap, simple…
…or at least it would be if your guests actually did what was requested of them.
It would be around 9pm when Ned, already rather intoxicated picked one of these cameras off one of the tables and noticed that only two of the twenty shots had been used, so he set about using them all up, no point in wasting them is what he thought as he took several photographs of an ashtray on the bar, and a lightswitch.
After that camera was all used up he wandered the room gathering in all of the disposables, hardly any of them had more than three or four photos on them, so Ned decided to do Jon a favour and finish them all off.
A few weeks later Jon and his new bride took a walk down to their local chemist to collect the twenty sets of photographs that they paid a kings ransom to have developed, rushed them home and opened the packages – to find Neds handywork, nearly 300 photographs of ash trays, light switches, beer taps, door handles, the flock wallpaper in the gents toilets, and several of our Neds shoes.
Time has shrouded the names that Jon called our Ned in the office on the Monday morning.
But I actually thought it was a spiffing idea, now he is divorced from wifey #1 he can at least remember what the cheese plant in the hotel reception looked like.
Why did I never think to do that? Oh, there was that one wedding, come to think of it I haven’t been asked to visit them since…and I was stone cold sober too.
You mean they invited Ned AGAIN? That Jon is a glutton for punishment!