I’ve been promising to tell this story almost since it happened, so today is your unlucky day. After seeing it’s lenght, I decided to post it in three parts, roughly and hour apart to allow for questions or comments. The title is not in the least misleading, ok a maybe a little misleading, as there are no actual whores, oh wait there are. But I think to do this right, it might be helpful for you to know the cast of characters. Besides, yours truly and the future Mrs. Stuffy also appearing will be:
G: My best friend and all around good guy.
B: One of my younger brothers.
L: Another younger brother. It should be noted that during a family dinner L once threw a meat cleaver at B, this is typical of their relationship.
P: The oldest brother also playing the role as A$$shole#1. It should be noted that we’ve never gotten along, in addition at the time P was on a brief sabbatical from California’s wonderful Penal system (The why will come up later).
The Whore/A$$hole#2: P’s girlfriend, so called because in addition to P and half of Oakland’s eligible and ineligible males she’s also slept with B, L, and
J: Youngest brother It should be noted J once shot L during a game of basketball. No, I’m not kidding.
Sis: My only sister.
J2/The B%%ch/ASShole#3 (how about we shorten this to J2BA3). (Not a single person in the family likes her, her husband included.)
The rest of my friends and relatives were smart enough not to attend.
My plan was a simple one. Sneak off to Reno and get married. My wife, then fiancée hadn’t yet met B, and L. Although we dated for a year and lived together for a year after that, she had never seen all my family at the same place at the same time either. This was by design, I’m a member of this family, I know what happens when we get together, it’s never pretty and usually ends with the arrival if vehicles with flashing lights; occasionally an ambulance, normally the police. My Mom moved two thousand miles away from us officially to take care of my grandmother, unofficially to get away from the insanity.
During the months leading up to the Big Day, my wife begged and pleaded with me to invite my brothers and sister for the big event. Grudgingly, I can’t deny my wife a thing, besides she’d just keep on asking; (cursing and grumbling) I started making calls. I called B; “You wouldn’t happen to want to go to Reno to see us get married do you. You do? Damn…I mean Cool” And so it went.
Having been foiled in my plans for a stress free marriage, I decided on the next best thing; damage control. I’m going to control every facet of this thing. No broken down cars, no fighting, and no reception. We’d go to a steak house or something for Prime Rib Dinner afterwards, then head for home the next morning, where the wife and I would get on a plane heading for the East Coast. Brilliant, we’ll drive there on Friday afternoon have a good time that night, get married the next afternoon and head back to Oakland at noon Sunday. I can handle this. God was probably already snickering.
He was my new plan. I’d rent a car and two vans. My wife and I would ride in the car. I would split up the natural combatants between the two vans. G would drive one J the other. I also had no intention of paying for, and then paying to have them restored to their original condition, rooms at one of the bigger resorts. We’ll stay a little further down the strip at a great hotel I’d name, but I’ve agreed not to mention its name to a living soul I know. I paid for 6 rooms, one for J and J3, one for Sis and my missus, one for B and I, one for L and G, and one for P and the Whore, the sixth room was to be the honeymoon suite. Believe it or not, my total cost for this was less than 3,500 dollars including the ceremony and round trip tickets to Tennessee. I was paying transportation, rooms and meals, gambling and drinking was to be at your own expense. I stressed this every time I talked to the one of the attendees.
Sound simple right, I mean what could happen? We didn’t make it to the State line without a problem; though we we’re nearly there before I noticed. Here’s what happened. We got off the highway in a little town just outside of Sacramento to take a rest stop, and top the cars off. Outside of the gas station/convenience store there was a guy offering to all and sundry; weed. I’m not sure how he expected to actually sell any as there were two CHP cruisers sitting near the phone booths at the entrance to the station. I remember thinking “idiot, there’s a cop right there”; I thought nothing further of it.
Somewhere before the Sierras I noticed a van was missing.