Thunderstorm quieted as we started our journey to.....Montclaire? Jersey sinkhole designation three hundred two. The gutted out hulls of tree trunks toppled by mucho lightning and strong winds sprinkled throughout on the passing streets. A few electric sparked foilage fires along the way. Noticed much of the area had power outages.

One twisting turn took us through an area called the looney bin in her youth. Sprawling acreage of forested land with dozens of Victorian looking abandoned asylums. The post storm atmosphere and the newly budding partially sky blocking fauna gave the area a viridian tinged spookiness. Seemed like a place where Freddy Krueger would have been spawned.

Fashionably late and eagerly anticipated ( seeing as I turn up with the stars of the show ) we arrive at the eatery. Why is everyone outside drinking German pints? Nice. Regional transformer go boom. Blackout.

Terrific to meet up with groom's family again. Two danger anarchy geek younger brothers who are actually an inspiring joy to talk to. Wishing more teens were like them. His mom is a wonderful ex-hippie art teacher, whom I've shared a spliff or two with. Actually, with the exception of his youngest bro, I've been baked with his entire family. And his stepfather who's a huge resource of science fiction and popular culture freakiness, which I relate with way too much. "Be seeing you" Prisoner eye salute greetings and everything. One of the few guys that understands my Doctor Who obsession.

Sniffed out the evil sister. As the story goes, after a vacation weekend gone awry, her sister refused to be her bridesmaid. As reports go, from my man with his peter morphing into a pamela, when family lines were drawn most people rallied to their side. Also plenty of hint glances that I should never bring the issue up around her family no matter how much chilled vodka flows down my throat. Place wagers now on whether or not that was accomplished for the duration of the festivities.

Quick arrangements made to transplant the party to a Spanish restaurant not too far away. We gain the surviving bridesmaid at the parking lot and take her to the new spot.

Arriba! Sangria! Mas sangria! First time I have had white wine sangria, and lemme tell ya pitchers of the quenchy stuff flowed and flowed. Tapas of garlic shrimp, fried calamari, crab stuffed mushroom caps and sliced grilled chorizo. Nummy nummy good time in my mouth. I was enticed by the saucy maitre d' for the broiled Chilean sea bass in a rioja imbued tomato sauce with fresh clams and mussels. Yummified.

Bellies full. One by one the valet fetched our cars. Another losing battle discussion on where homie was gonna stay so he'd be least underfoot while she got gussied up for the big event. She decides that he shouldn't spend the night at the hotel where me and his entire family are being put up ( same spot where the reception shall be ), partially I believe for the threat of incoming fattie boombatties previously mentioned by his brother. They check me in and tell me to await further instructions for the next, dun dun duuuuuuuun, joyous day.

Next? The actual wedding. Holy fuck!