Colby Angus Black texted me and asked me to stand up with him. He's a text someone to ask them to be in your wedding kind of guy. That's basically how I found myself on a train to Montreal about to set off for the rest of the planet.
His wedding to Miss Robyn was a special thing. In a special place. With very special people. First, I stayed with an old high school friend, Barry Brownell, as it turned out - the Officiant. He and Amy welcomed me with wide, loving, open arms and I enjoy their place and the warmth it possesses.Though it's a fancy 32nd floor condo overlooking lower Manhattan, it's inhabited by two wonderful people from my original hometown of Council Bluffs, Iowa. The Bulgaria of the Midwest.
As soon as I arrived, around 2pm Wednesday, June 13th, they wanted to make sure I felt at home, did I need anything, what did I want for dinner, etc. Barry knows well enough that you can find me entertaining myself at Rudy's beer hall on 9th Ave. - home of the cheapest beer in New York City WITH free hot dogs for all who dare. It was World Cup season and that's where I was when I got the text that Barry was on his way home. I grabbed my luggage (yes, I stopped at the bar first, shocking, I know) and hauled ass up 9 Ave. to 60th.
We enjoyed the evening and would head to Cold Spring on the train that Friday. But first, I would need to take care of something on Thursday. Angus being Angus, he had to use some horseshit SkyNet online, hipster tuxedo rental service. We would be wearing dark blue suits and the online service asked for my shirt size, pants, shoes, neck, jacket, inseam, all that good stuff. I got the measurements to the service in the nick of time, one month to the day before the wedding.
As I read their website later, I noticed that they mailed the suit to you two weeks before the occasion so you could have time to overnight the suit back to them for any altering it may need. Since I was on the road and would be on the road the entire month before the wedding, I wrote and asked where they planned on mailing the suit. The lovely and multi-talented Gina Leggett offered to have me send the suit to her place in Brooklyn so I wouldn't have to travel with it. So that's what I entered on the form. Her Brooklyn address.
I wouldn't have time to try it on and send it back if anything were wrong once I got to NYC two days before we trecked to Cold Springs. So they - the horseshit online, hipster tuxedo service - said they would send it to Austin. A. They mailed it to Brooklyn. B. The doorman at Gina's place didn't recognize the name on the package and asked no questions - then sent it back to them. C. No one notified anyone about any of this.
Now it's one week before the wedding, the suit is sitting in the hipster horseshit offices in Santa Monica, California. No one knows this. I call Gina and ask how it looks, she says, "How what looks, there's no suit here." Then she does all the legwork to find out everything you now know. The tuxedo hipster horsehit.com company then mails it back to Brooklyn. This is around the time Colby sends out a text to the groomsmen telling them they need to bring their own shirts and shoes.
My dress shirts and shoes are in Nashville, in storage. I know, this is boring but it's like therapy.
So the day before we head to the wedding, I've got to get to Brooklyn, pick up the tux from not a very good doorman, buy a shirt and some shoes then try to fit in a couple beers at Rudy's. The hipsters in California had no idea why they kept receiving angry emails from me and probably still don't. The tux fit fine, it's wasn't a big deal to find a shirt and shoes and the moral of this long and partially entertaining story is don't use The Black Tux hipster online horseshit tux shipping service.
Fuckin' Colby.
His wedding to Miss Robyn was a special thing. In a special place. With very special people. First, I stayed with an old high school friend, Barry Brownell, as it turned out - the Officiant. He and Amy welcomed me with wide, loving, open arms and I enjoy their place and the warmth it possesses.Though it's a fancy 32nd floor condo overlooking lower Manhattan, it's inhabited by two wonderful people from my original hometown of Council Bluffs, Iowa. The Bulgaria of the Midwest.
As soon as I arrived, around 2pm Wednesday, June 13th, they wanted to make sure I felt at home, did I need anything, what did I want for dinner, etc. Barry knows well enough that you can find me entertaining myself at Rudy's beer hall on 9th Ave. - home of the cheapest beer in New York City WITH free hot dogs for all who dare. It was World Cup season and that's where I was when I got the text that Barry was on his way home. I grabbed my luggage (yes, I stopped at the bar first, shocking, I know) and hauled ass up 9 Ave. to 60th.
We enjoyed the evening and would head to Cold Spring on the train that Friday. But first, I would need to take care of something on Thursday. Angus being Angus, he had to use some horseshit SkyNet online, hipster tuxedo rental service. We would be wearing dark blue suits and the online service asked for my shirt size, pants, shoes, neck, jacket, inseam, all that good stuff. I got the measurements to the service in the nick of time, one month to the day before the wedding.
As I read their website later, I noticed that they mailed the suit to you two weeks before the occasion so you could have time to overnight the suit back to them for any altering it may need. Since I was on the road and would be on the road the entire month before the wedding, I wrote and asked where they planned on mailing the suit. The lovely and multi-talented Gina Leggett offered to have me send the suit to her place in Brooklyn so I wouldn't have to travel with it. So that's what I entered on the form. Her Brooklyn address.
I wouldn't have time to try it on and send it back if anything were wrong once I got to NYC two days before we trecked to Cold Springs. So they - the horseshit online, hipster tuxedo service - said they would send it to Austin. A. They mailed it to Brooklyn. B. The doorman at Gina's place didn't recognize the name on the package and asked no questions - then sent it back to them. C. No one notified anyone about any of this.
Now it's one week before the wedding, the suit is sitting in the hipster horseshit offices in Santa Monica, California. No one knows this. I call Gina and ask how it looks, she says, "How what looks, there's no suit here." Then she does all the legwork to find out everything you now know. The tuxedo hipster horsehit.com company then mails it back to Brooklyn. This is around the time Colby sends out a text to the groomsmen telling them they need to bring their own shirts and shoes.
My dress shirts and shoes are in Nashville, in storage. I know, this is boring but it's like therapy.
So the day before we head to the wedding, I've got to get to Brooklyn, pick up the tux from not a very good doorman, buy a shirt and some shoes then try to fit in a couple beers at Rudy's. The hipsters in California had no idea why they kept receiving angry emails from me and probably still don't. The tux fit fine, it's wasn't a big deal to find a shirt and shoes and the moral of this long and partially entertaining story is don't use The Black Tux hipster online horseshit tux shipping service.
Fuckin' Colby.
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