Episode IV: A New Hope

Okay, I'm trying to figure out how to edit this story down a bit, as there is way too much info. In the end, you'll either read or you won't, right? Screw off. You're the only one reading, Sarah. Here comes Part Deux of "The Wedding."

Last year, upon receiving word of the impending birth of the world's newest Richter, I was invited by my little bro to be his best man. At that point, the whole family had tried - and failed - to tell him that he should just kick this chick to the curb, as she had lied to him about just about everything regarding "his" unborn child. I grudgingly accepted the challenge, and immediately started to worry over what kind of good things I could possibly say about this unholy union in my speech at the weddin'. I dutifully went and got myself felt up at a tux shop, tipped the mustachioed man a few bucks, and emailed the info off to Jon (who, by the way, never responded to let me know he got it, etc.).

I was stalling on buying my plane tickets back to Fargo, as I didn't have the cash to spend anyway, and more importantly, was just hoping that the whole thing would be canceled because of his fiance's terminal lupus, or some other invented disease. I guess Jebus was watching out for me after all, because about a week before the wedding, I received a phone call from the boy, asking me if I'd already bought my tickets. I answered in the affirmative (though I hadn't actually bought them at that point), just so I could hear him squirm on the phone. God, I'm so mean sometimes. After a short bunch of mumbling, which is more than I usually get from Jon, he tells me that the wedding has been postponed...for about a year. This is apparently due to the fact that his sweet baboo is STILL MARRIED TO HER OLD HUSBAND!!

Well sir, this was just too good to pass up. I immediately asked him if his wife hadn't presumably known this since the time they met, and certainly since they scheduled the fucking wedding. There was some mumbling, stumbling and grumbling, followed by a quick excision on Jon's part from the conversation. Before he got off the phone, I was able to find out from him that they were allowed by all of their wedding people to either cancel services or re-schedule venues without losing any money. The one hitch was that the place they rented for the party would have to be used within one year. They couldn't get their money back on that one. Seems more than fair to me. This would prove to be the impetus for part three in our story, coming up soon.

Oh, and at this point, I should mention that "their" love child had been pooped out for a couple weeks. The kid's name is Logan. If I am to include him with my other nephews, I now have three of the whitest sounding nephews in America. We have Austin, Cody and Logan. At least the last one is only named after an airport, and not some cowboy city. Then again, upon further investication (as Jesco White says), I see that Logan is indeed a city in both Utah and Iowa, so there you have it. Three hick towns for three hick boys.

That's about as much as I can remember from that time, as it was well over a year ago now. More coming up soon.