Yeah, I know there are a million wedding stories told about horrifying things happening during this festive occasion, but I’ll just make it a million and one and you can make up your own mind about how it compares with yours. They say truth is stranger than fiction, well I think “they” are right a lot of the time. My wife and I will celebrate a wedding anniversary on October the 8th. We have been married over 30 years and are still in love, for those of you who are interested.

Our wedding was planned with precision by my wife-to be and other ladies, I presume. I don’t think the men folk are consulted about these types of things and to tell the truth, they are glad of it. Anyway, the wedding got planned, dresses and tux’s picked out, parties here, showers there, yadda, yadda, yadda! I’m sorry ladies, I know you like to hear all about the colors and how beautiful the bride looked (and beautiful she still is) but I am no good at that sort of thing.

Like most couples, we had planned for the perfect wedding, the weather is usually wonderful this time of year with mild days and cool nights. Our honeymoon destination was the Great Smoky Mountains, a popular honeymoon spot then and now. But even before the wedding problems arose which seemed to be a portent of things to come. The weekend before the wedding was to take place I dropped my fiancée Beth off at home before stopping at a local burger joint for a cup of coffee.

I was driving a new car I had bought for our honeymoon trip, but before I could park a young lady came flying through the air and landed on the hood. She had apparently been tossed there by an inebriated lad who seemed to think he had accomplished a humorous act. I commented on his behavior which seemed to anger him along with one of his buddies. The outcome was predictable, they both attacked me and received a well deserved thrashing for their efforts. The next day I discovered the fellow who tossed the girl (who now sported a remarkable shiner) was the son of my future mother-in-law’s friend. ( she was involved in the wedding preparations) Not a good start!

The day of the wedding arrived and everything went off without a hitch. The reception, the photographs, and everything else went by in a blur of movement and sound. Beth and I were so busy with everything we never had a chance to eat. By the time we finally battled our way through the rice and shaving cream it was pretty late. We planned to stop in Macon overnight, a distance of roughly 90 miles. Someone had packed us a box of food from the reception but Swedish meatballs and champagne just didn’t satisfy. By the time we checked into our room at the hotel we were famished. Fortunately, there was a Waffle House right next door so we decided to walk over for some real food. Then things began to go wrong.

As I stated earlier, it was a wonderfully warm day. This time of year this usually mean rain, and rain it did. The moment we entered the restaurant it started to rain like a cow peeing on flat rock. (southern talk for a downpour) We didn’t care at the time and ordered massive quantities of food while waiting for the rain to subside. It was after midnight and the local country juke joint had apparently just closed as business started to pick up at the Waffle House.

Every type of country/western apparel was represented by both male and female counterparts entering the establishment. Cowboy hats, boots, shirts and skirts, left no doubt as to what kind of music they favored. In case there was any doubt, the juke box pelted out one song after another. No problem, we were enjoying the display while poking down grits and eggs.

This mood did not last long however, as two young ladies(sic) one behind our booth and one several spaces in front began to argue. One told the other to “shut the hell up” while the other request that she make her. Before we knew it they were hanging over us cussing and yelling as young ladies are taught to do in a Wafflehouse down here. We were glad when they decided to take their altercation outdoors into the rain soaked parking lot. They proceeded to fight and tear each others clothes off as they rolled around in the puddles. (any other time it might have been entertaining)

This Wafflehouse was one of those places where the locals cruise late at night. As the cars paraded around, the occupants of the vehicles would gape out the window at the spectacle seemingly undisturbed by the event. We felt a little more relieved until one of the young ladies began beating the other’s head against the glass right above out table. I do not need to tell you how hard it is to enjoy your grits when something like this is happening. The boyfriends or husbands then began to fight and the rain fell down even harder. Finally the police showed up and stopped the fight allowing us to finally leave. By the time we made it back to the room we were wet and tired. But we are used to the south and its ways, after all we considered Macon a large city compared to where we lived and with so much more sophistication, we thought.

But we had experienced the worst part of our honeymoon. The weather turned cold and the colors of the autumn leaves in the mountains have never been more beautiful than they were that year. I know, love and all that, but the rest of our two weeks were perfect in every way. We have been back many times since then, but the excitement of our first trip will never be repeated. Ain’t love grand?