The fine print: wedding drama

Now, everyone knows that a wedding must be accompanied by some drama, right? It's like, a law or something. And my brothers both run with a fun crowd. Oh, let's be honest, there are 6 of us little Washington Watson cousins that grew up together, and 4 (possibly 5 , I'll have to confirm) have had some run-ins with the law. My name was not on that list. Until this weekend.

I do count myself a little lucky that it took this long for me to have to bail a brother out, so, there's that.

And what else do we have in our favor - oh yes, it was not the Groom brother that was fetched from the drunk tank! {Yay, Jeremy.}

The tale goes something like this...

Upon returning from the rehearsal dinner, a carload of family members found themselves stopped at a road block not ONE mile from our family home. Said roadblock was so near by, in fact, that all those at the home saw the police car's lights and wondered who the lucky perp could be.

Shortly thereafter, I found myself being awakened to handle a Situation. Because, upon review of the adults present, (and there were m-a-n-y) I was deemed most presentable and sober to go down to the jail. And God forbid we wake up Mama, poor thing, because even if we had, she would probably have made him spend the night. Like a lost little lamb!

I walked bleary-eyed from my mother's over to my brother's next door. The after-party was still hopping, so I told them I was heading downtown on a rescue mission. The general consensus was that of course I knew exactly where the courthouse and basement jail were located. I piped up accordingly: "I have no reason to know where any law enforcement facilities are located, people!"

To which they were kind enough not to sneer "goody-goody" to me...

And so Elder Brother's partner John and I set off to brave the wilds of downtown LDubs in the night. (cue crickets chirping and stoplights blinking yellow)

After an incorrect stop at the municipal building's deserted basement, and a reconnoiter of the police station, we finally found the correct building, complete with the magistrate waiting outside to greet us.

"Ya'll here for Mr. Watson?"

Why yes, yes we are.

"Ya'll aren't drunk are ya? You can't sign for him if you're drunk."

Apparently it happens all too often, that the rescue mission is undertaken by fellow party-goers.

And at this point my guilt-o-meter goes into overdrive, reviewing all meanings of the word and its undertones, just as John points at me and says

"SHE isn't drunk sir, and she will be signing."

Raise your hand if you are of sound mind, smile encouragingly, and just go for it.

"I'm just tired sir, they got me out of bed."

Inane remarks, feel free to spill out of my mouth at will.

"Just have a seat, he'll be right out."

And then there he was, my brother - jester of the jail, accompanied by a grinning deputy. Seems he made some friends.

My favorite line:

Officer to brother, smilingly: So what'd you tell the arresting officer, same as everybody does, that you'd only had two beers?"

Brother, snidely: "Hell no, I don't drink beer."

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Stay tuned for the next installment of Wedding Drama, which usually travels in sets of three, but fortunately stopped at two...