Short short story.
2008: Easter Monday, Easter Monday, or rather as it appears on the invitation.
The appointment is at 10.30, but I already know I will not be accurate. In fact, at 10.30 am still with the party biscottatta in the mouth. Barbara ha già chiamato due volte: "muoviti, bastardo!", mi ha detto. Lisa, dai toni più pacati, chiama solo una volta.
Alle 11.30 sono a Bari, la cattedrale è circondata da topini grezzi e giapponesi ancor più grezzi dei topini. Gli sposi sono già dentro e mi sono perso l'ingresso in chiesa di Mariangela.
Entro, sul versante dello sposo noto Barbara e Patrizio che sfoggia un gran nodo di cravatta, li raggiungo: occhiataccia di lei, scambio degli anelli già avvenuto. Si racconta che Mariangela abbia indossato la fede di Giancarlo- le andava stretta o larga?- e viceversa. Poi tutto è andato al dito giusto.
In chiesa noto un paio di scarpine verdi ed un paio di scarpine gialle, pochi gonnellini. Dietro di me un relative anticipates the words of the priest celebrant at a speed never resigned. We exchange various signs of peace with its neighbors. The function loops through quiet, and after a contrite inginocchiatura collective (the community), coming to an end. Amen and signatures of several witnesses.
We go out and expect the bride and groom holding colored rice at the end of the day will be found largely in the generous décolletage of Mariangela. The Japanese photographing the couple, the mice steal the Japanese. It rains and rains and strong as well. Everyone in the car, go to the room Turi, cherries, prison, and Ivana villa Menelaus, who then would be the room.
we are greeted by several hostesses who show us our table, one near the festivities!
Training: Patrick and Barbara, Lisa with Antonio, a couple from Milan, a couple Altamura-Swedish Navy decoupled and I also decoupled. The classic table Young.
The bride and groom come in the room early enough, are greeted by a nice string quartet and the thunderous applause of affammati guests.
Kisses, hugs, congratulations, photo rite, and propitiatory dance off with some appetizers.
Shit! The strategic location
assegnataci brought considerable benefits: the waiters, especially the type with no hair, which I feel very close on Monday, continues to fill the table with plates full of all goodness of the land and sea (photo on request Patrick), while smiling lady in black suit behind us and then infamy, fills the glasses of wine from Trentino absolutely unpronounceable name (a sweet white), cordial but drinkable. Chew in the company of the notes of Led Zeppelin. Excellent musical journey: listening to, among others, The Clash, U2, The Cure, of course.
On the dance floor you will see a blonde woman and a man always triggered tie in orange, too pretty protagonist. In our part of only timid attempts to train. I can boast of having the right veil to the bride for a tour of the hall. Now that everyone has raised
coats, you can admire a pair of skimpy dress.
Lunch is at times moving. The wine has become red. Barbara he says is half 'mbriacato. Marina next to me also like enough, I do not dislike. Lisa Antonio and maintain a sober perhaps apparent. It 's a good party. The bride and groom are happy and toast with us a couple of times. Mariangela also seem to enjoy the wines. From time to time runs from the table to track and then the track at the table. Giancarlo instead allocates more on the track: a failed attempt at forced striptease, but not very convinced.
Meanwhile in the garden someone has seen fit to spruce up the alpha of the couple bound with solid toilet paper.
Argentine Meat and Nero d'Avola anticipate the solemn moment of the cake and Plainsong by The Cure. Kiss of love, Mariangela swap lip for Giancarlo una fuit joy. I due sono pronti per la Cambogia, il Vietnam e la Thailandia. Io invece me ne torno a Bitonto, qualcuno andrà a Capurso, Bari, Roma.
Al ritorno tutti nella nuova casa degli sposi, sperando che le porte siano ultimate, per brindare ancora e vedere le foto del viaggio.
Auguri di cuore e buon divertimento
