Woody Cavenaugh

The good lord will get you.
Its a phrase I hear my boss use occasionally. I think I got to witness it first hand this weekend starting with the aforementioned bachelor party. Between Rob's double barreled peer presure, his own excitement, and Sara's gentle but firm shuving I was resigned to my fate of sitting in the bus for how ever long it took the gang to have all of their money taken away in the club. At least there would be booze and go carts. With the money given to me by Rob so I couldn't use lack of money as an excuse, I went by the alphabet store and picked up a bottle of just below the top shelf tequila. I had no idea there was such a vast difference in prices and qualities. I did the fencing thing, did the after fencing dinner and meeting thing, Sara was taken care of, and I went to the meeting place, only slightly behind schedule.
They against all reasonable explanation had managed to be not only on schedule but already left in the party bus. So not knowing what to do, I left the bottle, hopped in the car and called Rob for directions of where to find them. I got his voice mail. Ok...unexpected. I called Sara for advice, and she suggested I go pick her up. We go home.

The next morning, I'm feeling guilty instead of the much prefered hung over, but I hoped I could make it up at the wedding. After coffee, we went round and round over what to wear. Sara has nothing but work cloths, and I have one suit, the one I only wear to funerals. Finally we agreed to disagree and I put on a bright yellow T-shirt and a sports coat. She put on one of her purple suits and we headed for the door.

The car had a flat front driver side tire. So I pump it up, getting my jacket dirty in the process and headed into town to get a plug. I only had to pump it back up once on the way there. I got it plugged and went back to pick Sara up. My cellphone was sitting in the drink holder where I left it last night. I had two missed calls, both from Rob, there were no messages. I also notice that it is still on vibrate from where I had put it three days earlier when our PM training started. Crap. I made it home. Sara, having brushed the dirt off of my jacket sleave, managed to get herself covered in cat hair in the process. I brush her down and we think maybe we can slip out the door without something else happening. We were right unless of course you count the pocket of my jacket got caught on the doorknob and torn. Screw it. I'm going pocket or no pocket. We get into the car, the clock says 12:40. We are in Browns Summit, the wedding is at Duke Chapel in Durham. Ok, we will be late. We will slip in quite like and sit in the back.

Highway 61 is pretty, but not when you are in a hurry. Especially not when you are in a hurry riding behind a tractor. We finally got around him and I put my foot in it. At 61 and I40, I have to stop for gas, yes, I know, I should've done that last night. I end up having to buy a quart of oil to go with my tank of gas. The people in line ahead of me were a large group trying to figure out who was going to buy what. The problem was they and the cashier didn't share a common language. Finally it is my turn. My card is declined. But wait, I've still got Rob's cash that was supposed to buy me a go cart ride. I'm out the door, oil is in, I have grease and dirt on my hands but we are back in traffic.

We are back in traffic sitting behind a semi who is, like us, trying to make a left to get onto I40. He's having to wait for the funeral percession to go by first. The deceased was well liked apparently. He turns onto I40 and I make a critical and unpopular decision, it is 1:06pm, the wedding is at 1:30pm. I pull a U-turn and find myself waiting behind the same funeral procession who is trying to make a left into the grave yard. When I can, I turn back into the gas station go into the Popeyes and get a 16 piece box which was on sale. I get home just before 2pm, I eat a lot of chicken strait from the box standing at the stove in absolute silence, Sara turns to the playstation for solace. After overeating chicken I just go back to bed, nothing can go wrong there right?

I was there for only a half hour at most when I had to get up and sit on the toilet for pretty much the rest of the day.

The good lord will get you, and she apparently has a very wicked since of humor.

I hope I still have friends on Monday. The groom I am not worried about he was too busy getting married to notice. Rob I am worried about. I disappoint him, like most people, a good deal of the time but this one takes the cake and there isn't anything I can do about it. But at least I now know that my stomach problems are purely stress related.