04-14-2014, 05:20 PM
The wedding couple wrung their hands
they had not ordered the ham,
nor the six extra salads;
tuna, rice, green leaves, mixed bean,
feta cheese and tomato/ bacon / peas.
When they had counted the costs,
potato and pie and a home brew toast
had left just enough to fuel the bike to Scotland
where they could bum B&B from the in-laws.
At the bar the guests quaffed Pale Ale,
spirits and fine whiskey, all of which flowed
down cash strapped gullets,
like cousin Jesus was attending the wedding.
The bar staff poured with gay abandon
and as the day turned down the bed sheets,
the depth of the jars were really tested.
By 7pm the semi derelict hall hotel
was officially full; the day time guests did not drift off
as expected. Granny retired to her room...but not to sleep,
she had found a pack of cards and some Highland park
and then all the usual rent-a-crowd turned up.
The jazz quartet, booked by the hour to play some couth sounds
before they dined, were engaged in a battle of the bands
with the disco man. They stuck to their station
(by the bar) and both refused to yield.
At 11pm the family agreed the couple should leave.
They formed a wall of flesh that squeezed and clasped
meringue clad breasts and offered well oiled tips.
Suspicious at last, the best man, a Para Captain,
was found in the kitchen, he was having a blast,
securing supply lines for Granny in her gambling den.
Best man waved his arm at the owner who was flurishing
a catering can of fruit cocktail and mentioned
something about a hotel sale and a stock take at 12pm.
After the formalities were done,
the best party anyone could ever recall
went on till 4am. Four miles away
the wedding couple finally sat down
slightly stunned
and briefly wondered if they could return. .
This is more of a story than a poem but it is my true good luck story. When we spoke to the owner on our return, he said that he had been afraid to tell us that the Hotel had sold after we had made the booking in case we cancelled and that in fact the exchange day was the day after...and then when the incoming owners had been gitty about the value of the wet stock and kitchen inventory he had had a sense of humour faiiure and gave it to our wedding rather than let the new owners steal it from him. (He also reported he had had the best party ever...we should have gone back!)
they had not ordered the ham,
nor the six extra salads;
tuna, rice, green leaves, mixed bean,
feta cheese and tomato/ bacon / peas.
When they had counted the costs,
potato and pie and a home brew toast
had left just enough to fuel the bike to Scotland
where they could bum B&B from the in-laws.
At the bar the guests quaffed Pale Ale,
spirits and fine whiskey, all of which flowed
down cash strapped gullets,
like cousin Jesus was attending the wedding.
The bar staff poured with gay abandon
and as the day turned down the bed sheets,
the depth of the jars were really tested.
By 7pm the semi derelict hall hotel
was officially full; the day time guests did not drift off
as expected. Granny retired to her room...but not to sleep,
she had found a pack of cards and some Highland park
and then all the usual rent-a-crowd turned up.
The jazz quartet, booked by the hour to play some couth sounds
before they dined, were engaged in a battle of the bands
with the disco man. They stuck to their station
(by the bar) and both refused to yield.
At 11pm the family agreed the couple should leave.
They formed a wall of flesh that squeezed and clasped
meringue clad breasts and offered well oiled tips.
Suspicious at last, the best man, a Para Captain,
was found in the kitchen, he was having a blast,
securing supply lines for Granny in her gambling den.
Best man waved his arm at the owner who was flurishing
a catering can of fruit cocktail and mentioned
something about a hotel sale and a stock take at 12pm.
After the formalities were done,
the best party anyone could ever recall
went on till 4am. Four miles away
the wedding couple finally sat down
slightly stunned
and briefly wondered if they could return. .
This is more of a story than a poem but it is my true good luck story. When we spoke to the owner on our return, he said that he had been afraid to tell us that the Hotel had sold after we had made the booking in case we cancelled and that in fact the exchange day was the day after...and then when the incoming owners had been gitty about the value of the wet stock and kitchen inventory he had had a sense of humour faiiure and gave it to our wedding rather than let the new owners steal it from him. (He also reported he had had the best party ever...we should have gone back!)