Bridesmaid Dispatches - Part III

Would you trust these men?Friday… (when I meet G3 and start to strategize)

I wake up around 8:45 and tell myself to go running. The rationale behind this is that I have a long day ahead of me and I need all the energy I can muster. Exercise also makes you relax, and since shit always rolls downhill, whatever extraneous stress the Bride may have is going to come to me – I need to be calm enough to handle it. Exercise also makes you naturally radiant, and since I have another groomsman to meet, I might as well go for it. The other thing is this is probably going to be my one chance to have thirty minutes to myself all day. So I grab the Shuffle and get going. After a quick couple of miles, I pop into Starbucks and fuel up. (I don’t generally go to Starbucks, but since Peet’s Coffee hasn’t yet made it to SLO, I have to.) A triple-short Americano should do the trick. I also grab a big bottle of water and an Odwalla. Hydration is key – it’s vital for your skin, and since there’s a lot of guys around, as well as lots of pictures being taken, this is important. It also helps with hangovers…

We have our nails done, go to our bridesmaids lunch in Avila Beach, and then head back to get ready for the evening. I have a fantastic dress to wear and some gorgeous Louis Vuitton shoes from the Spring of 2003…ladylike and sky high. We head to the old Mission for rehearsal. This is when I meet G3. Since he and I are the tallest of the bridal party, we’re paired up together. He seemed kind of buttoned-up, kind of somber, kind of quiet – it could have been jet-lag, but I didn’t know what to think. He certainly didn’t really fit the description the bride had given me: lawyer, polo player, overall devastation to females. He was very handsome, but sort of shy – like a Chilean Prince William. Oh well. At this point I’m thinking I’m going for G1.

At dinner, I ask G1 to sit next to me, right across from the bride & groom. He wants to taste all of the meal options, so he asks through his broken English if he and I could split our dishes – he’ll order the ravioli if I order the steak. Truth be told, I HATE doing this kind of thing, especially if filet mignon is on the line, but I try to be accommodating and agree. The steak is far better than the ravioli and he apologizes. Speeches are made, toasts are given, G2 is asked to do a blindfolded taste-test of a 16-year old Bordeaux that the Father of the Bride brought – he places the vintage within one estate and within one year. I guess G2 knows what he’s doing. The groom is given a 49er cap by the bride’s family. Parents and grandparents start to leave, and the younger ones gather in closer. G1 and G3 want whiskeys, and I cut off their orders for Wild Turkey and replace it with Maker’s Mark. They aren't sure about this, but I tell them to trust me. They love it and then I need to explain what a Bourbon is in the booze family.

Wanting to mingle, I get another taste of wine and sit with G2 for a while to try to pick up some free wine tasting expertise. He's so passionate about explaining malolactic fermentation that he doesn't even seem to notice me. Hmmm.

We leave the restaurant and go on to the next bar. G3 walks with me and he barely starts to warm up on the way. His English is nearly perfect, but he doesn’t say too much. At the bar we meet up with G1 and we all have Maker’s Mark. G1 and I move to the side to chat and I decide he’s charming. Little did I know that G3 was planning a coup d’etat worthy of Pinochet.

G3: “Okay you two are making me jealous over here.” We all laugh as I guess that the Maker’s or the jet lag is finally getting to G3. Anyways, it's a cute thing to say. G1 bolts as he sees another of the bride’s friends and goes to talk to her. G3 and I keep talking – he’s taken his tie off and I realize that he’s far less buttoned up than I thought. In fact, he’s hot. And sexy. And totally disarming. He’s starting to live up to his billing.

I suddenly think of some dialogue from Breakfast at Tiffany’s:

Holly: “Just look at the goodies she brought with her!”
Paul: “Oh he’s alright I guess if you like dark, handsome, rich-looking men with passionate natures and too many teeth.”

G3: “Where can we go?” This question makes my head snap.

Me: “What?”

G3: “Let’s go somewhere and be alone.”

[Dear reader: I've given this a lot of thought, and I decided that instead of the alarmingly sexy play by play I had planned to write, I'm not going to write it becuase the other party involved is someone I really like and want to know better. Granted, I didn't know this on Friday night, but you'll have to trust me. It wasn't something I was planning on, but when a tall Chilean polo-player says "C'mon Beauty, let's go have a romance..." things start to go out the window. Suffice it to say, kisses were enjoyed, flirtations exchanged, and a shoulder strap was broken... Fast-forward:]

Bride: “Um, what was going on in that corner over there? Were you making out with G3?”

Me: “Yes. And I don’t know what to do - he broke my dress. Groom isn’t helping.”

Bride: “I know – he needs to stop drinking and go back to the hotel. If he’s hung over tomorrow I’ll be pissed. And G3 is totally jet-lagged - keep that in mind.”

Me: “Are we leaving?”

Bride: “Yes.”

We gather our stuff and I find G1 to say good night. I want him to know that I liked him more, and before G3, and that I had nothing to do with G3 making his move. I kiss him on the lips quickly. I leave with the bride and the other bridesmaid and stagger to the hotel.

Bride: “Wow, so G3 made a move.”

Me: “Yeah, a big move -  I had to go. I mean, I kinda like G1, I gave him a kiss goodnight.”

Bride: “What! You kissed two Chileans in one night? Holy shit your hotness factor just went up 200%!” It’s comments like this that are some of the many reasons why I am friends with the bride.

Bride: “It’s good you’re leaving."

Me: “I agree.”

Little did I know that once I tucked myself into my comfy bed, unconsciousness would never come that night. G3 had me so excited I strayed in that weird area between wide awake and dozing for the next seven hours. In the morning I was giddy.