Soooo I just got back from a weekend in Hotlanta to witness yet another one of my friends bite the dust and get hitched. I was super excited to see my friend, but with the way my current dating state of affairs has been was hesitant to be around all the lovey dovey stuff. Apparently Hotlanta was not feeling my arrival either.
I was traveling down with T who was the third of our Fab Four group. At one point in time we were a force to be reckoned with in Providence - myself, T, southern bell, and our fourth friend Foxywhite (that is her "business" name and I'm mortified every time she introduces herself as such). Unfortunately southern bell moved back to Hotlanta to be with her now husband and the Fab Four never quite survived her departure. Foxy didn't make the trip so it was just me and T in the great ATL!
So T and I got our big asses up at 4:30 in the morning to make it to the Boston airport for our 7:30 flight. I force us to both wear our University of Georgia t-shirts that southern bell sent us for Christmas to show good Georgia spirit. I was only able to fake the answers to approximately two questions when asked about the football team. ("Is there a game today?" "yes." aaaannndd hmmm ok maybe just one question). We get on the plane and there is something about planes that makes me extremely drousy. I proceed to pass out while we sat on the runway for an hour. There is a problem with one of the wings (reassuring) but I'm in such a deep sleep i have no idea what is going on (I'm sure if I was fully alert I would have wanted to exit the plane immediately) Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #1.
We finally get to ATL but have definitely missed the bridal brunch and I'm cursing the fact that I'm not sipping on a mimosa at this point. We go to get our luggage and of course mine is nowhere to be found. I'm trying to describe my oh so cute vera bradley suitcase in the java blue print to the "I have no empathy for anyone" Airtran employee and she is making me decide if there is more blue or brown in the pattern - which if anyone knows what I'm talking about there is a completely even mixture of both. And if I had to say "yes by pattern I mean a print" one more time I thought I was going to scream. Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #2
We finally get to the hotel and southern bell is so excited to see us as we are her. We hang around in her suite for awhile but eventually are so starving that we need to order room service for lunch. T and I go back to our room to wait for our food. And wait. And wait. And watch this horrible original lifetime movie starring freddy prinze jr. And wait. We decide to call and see what's going on before we really lose it and come to find out our order was never placed. Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #3.
After we ate a delicious lunch paid for by the Westin we get ready for the big event. We are told there are no shuttles to the ceremony so the best bet is to take a cab. All spruced up and trying not to break a sweat in the 95 degree weather we pile into a cab and ask Habnam Prhtghmrt to take us to the Trolley Barn. He then tells us that he has no idea where that is. Neither does the bellman, the security officer or anyone on the entire Westin hotel staff (ok i'm exagerrating but seriously isn't that what these people are there for). I proceed to have a mini hissy fit and storm back upstairs to our room to get the address from our little welcome bag.(I already ate about 5 snickers and chex mix) By the time I get back the bellman had already printed out directions for our cab driver which pissed me off even more. Apparently mapquest directions didn't help either because we still got lost - and then I saw that he had a navigation system sitting on the passenger seat the whole time. (What??). Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #4.
We make it to the ceremony and run down to catch a glimpse of southern bell who looks absolutely stunning. We then grab our seats for the big moment. The ceremony is all well and nice until the officiant starts talking about southern bell needing to be submissive to her new hubby and that he is the head of the household and she needs to respect him blah blah blah. I look over at T with this horrified look in my face (sorry sb! everything else was so so lovely) like what did he just say and did we take a plane this morning to 1954? Still not quite over my initial shock I looked around to see everyone smiling and nodding along. Scrambling to pick my chin up off the floor I realized that we might of as well had "Northerner" signs stapled to our cute floral dresses at that point. Hotlanta Hates Us Sign #5.
T and I quickly run to the champagne table during the cocktail hour and began downing as many peach bellini's that we could. Despite the slim number of single guys at the wedding the rest of the evening involved great food and dancing. One of southern bell's friends that she had told me about awhile ago was in attendance. (she also believes he is my "soul mate") (he also now has a girlfriend) (who is a stage 5 clinger). However in my drunken state by the end of the night I was able to go up to him while she was off getting another beverage and introduced myself as his soul mate. riiighht. That would be funny if the story ended right there yet he then proceeded to email me on mypsace the next day. I love how I attract unavailable men (in every meaning of the word) all over the country. Yet, the night was not complete without a 300 pound black man named Sammy that worked for the catering company coming up to me and in his souther drawl said "Missss Southeeerrrn Bell (haha he actually used her real name but that would have been funny if he called her that) told me that I could have one dance this eeevenin and I want that dance to be with yoouuu." Mother Fucker. Despite my initial reaction he really was very sweet and thankfully our "dance" was to some fast jay z song so we were able to keep the holy ghost between us. Hotlanta maybe doesn't hate us but likes to fuck with us sign #6
Let's just say the rest of the weekend included the following:
-Being picked up by four businessmen from Texas at the Hard Rock Cafe (Old Man Texan, Single Texan, Married Texan, and Quiet Texan that wore a cigarette over each ear).
-Proceeded to be grilled by Old Man Texas on questions such as what the population of Providence is, what my interests are (and kept insisting it was boys like a broken record as I tried to answer), and if i know where the Red River is (no but I will kill you and throw you in it in about 3 seconds).
-Then proceeded to get into an indepth discussion with the Single Texan about why the officiant told southern bell to be submissive. (I'm still not convinced) (Plus he looked like Slade from Real Housewives from Orange County - absolutely no credibility).
- Then proceeded to find a 24 hour diner with karaoke with Married Texan and Quiet Texan in which I of course became the star of the show.
-Brought a little NJ to ATL with Living on a Prayer (however it was slightly ruined by the high pitched singing of my Atlanta Gay that insisted on singing with me.) (i know. as soon as I walked in he recognized me as America's Hag. where was the paparazzi?)
Ok well maybe Hotlanta DID love us by the time we left. I mean what city would bring us four Texans, an Atlanta gay and 24 hours of karaoke in one night?
Oh and on the flight home we had to remain seated when we landed so that four state troopers could come on board and arrest a man for an unknown "altercation" with a flight attendant.
Nevermind. Hotlanta hates us.
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