Now I say "Part I" because I forgot my damn camera. Yes the Maori that never usually leaves home without it, left home without it on the only day that she never should have. So I now have to patiently wait for the boss to get another invitation or I have to find out where and when some other Mexican nuptials are happening and crash them. Bearing a gift of course.
This wedding was of the brother of one of the security guards that works in the plaza where the office is. It was awesome! Course I started the festivities almost falling on my arse and landing on the wedding present in front of a handful of witnesses, sober I might add, but it got better from there.
The food was never ending, homecooked by the family and delicious. The beer was free flowing, bit warm but cost nothing. The Tequila if you were keen was bountiful, and the Piña Colada simply delish.
Accompanying the food was a Mariachi contingent. This is the main reason I was bummed about not bringing my camera. I thought they were pretty cool, doing their thing and everyone was enjoying their performance. Which only made the lack of a camera all the more annoying.
On the bright side tho', some poor sod decided to sell balloons. The helium inflated ones that have cartoon characters on them and foam hands or feet stuck to them. Well the chance to be a kid again is never far from my mind, so I just had to have one. Persuading the boss that it would be a good idea to buy one for me was a lot easier than I thought, so "Sponge Bob" and I become inseparbale. Even when I coerced some poor young Mexican lad into teaching me how to dance- Mexican style. Old Bob kept getting in the way everytime I was being spun around (yes I'll balme it on Bob not my two left feet) so I called it quits, and gifted the balloon to a young girl. The lack of manners is a global thing- her father made her say "thankyou"- but I'll give her the benefit of the doubt 'cos she looked real gob-smacked when I gave it to her. My lack of a balloon was short lived tho'. The balloon salesman turned up with more, and this time there was one with a cow with lipstick imprints on it and "muchos besos" (lots of kisses). That was the signal for me to start bashing everyone at the table on the head and saying "a beso for you, a beso for you..." etc. Some people thought it was funny. Some didn't. Oh well. Anyway, Wineera-the-Younger decided she needed a balloon aswell, so off I was sent to get another "Sponge Bob". Returning to the table triumphant, I challenged the youngster to a war. Seeing two grown women fighting with balloons must have been quite a sight for the somewhat conservative audience I'd wager, but it had us collapsing with laughter. I'd just like to point out that it was I that was victorious. Her balloon disentegrating with a most satisfactoryly gratifyingly explosive bang. Choice bro!
Hometime saw us (me) hiding a bottle of Tequila under my jacket. Not 'cos I was nicking or souveniring it, but 'cos the securtiy guard had given it to me and told me to hide it from my boss. Turns out that she had turned it down, as had my sister. Not this Maori! Free alcohol (free anything) and I have no shame. I'm sure I can find a use for it somewhere, sometime.
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