Why I Hate Driving Weddings

Besides all the foofey gooey stuff and the ugly dresses my poor horse has to be subjected to viewing, and including the people who have no clue that horses do not like sparklers, weddings boil down to one basic equation:

They are a pain in the ass. The Bride and Groom are always late. The photographer thinks he's Annie Liebowitz. The videographer thinks he's Quentin Tarantino. They rarely carry any money to tip anyone (bellmen and valet included). Bridezilla my ass, it's more like mother of the bride-zilla.

So, here for your Day-Runner pleasure, is a timeline for a wedding I drove on Thursday:

8:00am that’s what I set my alarm for, but of course I woke up at 6:50 because God hates my guts and wants me to be sleep deprived forever. It didn't help that I stayed up late reading Victoria Dahl's newest release, "Start Me Up" which is excellent, BTW.

Okay, enough pimping, back to the timeline:

(I was told the wedding was at noon)

8:20 Ro sends me a text asking if I want donuts. No. I detest Krispy Kreme, and if I'm gonna consume that many calories it better give me a buzz. And nobody makes "Wine Filled" Bismarks.

9:45 I leave for the barn.

10:15 I arrive at the barn.

10:16 I find out the wedding pickup has now been moved to 12:30.

10:45 my carriage is pulled, a "Just Married" sign has been attached, Rex is groomed and tacked up.

I now have 1 hour to gossip with Ro and talk to Wease on the phone before I need to change into my wedding togs and hitch Rex to the carriage.

11:50 Hitch Rex to the carriage and head to West Gate. It's a beautiful day, hot and sunny, so I let him walk real slow.

12:00 I get honked at because of the "Just Married" sign. As the honker passes he must be disappointed because no bride and groom are present, leaving him to wonder if Rex and I have just gotten hitched. Which we have, but in the literal sense. Not figuratively speaking.

12:15 Arrive at West Gate.

12:26 Put my fancy long black jacket on so I look professional (translation; So I don't look homeless.)

12:32 I am sweating like a pig in my long black coat on a black carriage. My black jeans are stuck to the back of my legs and my thighs have cooked to a medium well.

12:35 Girl from Toronto starts talking to me asking questions about the horse, carriage and wedding couple. She is very concerned that they are five minutes late. She asks what happens when the Bride & Groom are late. I explain:

"The hour they booked will get them pictures and a ride up to Memory Grove and back. Fifteen minutes late gets them a City Creek ride and pictures. Thirty minutes late gets them a Temple Tour and pictures. Forty-five minutes late gets them up the street and back, plus pictures. An hour late gets them zip."

12:37 Guy walks up and asks me if I have change for a $20. I don't give people change. MBA got burned big once being nice and giving a guy change for something that looked like a $10 but it was a sham and she was out $10 bucks. Guess what folks, I'm not an arcade/retail store/casino. Get change from someplace with a cash register.

12:45 I text Ro: "Are you sure these people KNOW they have a carriage ride?"

12:50 Ro calls and ask if I've made contact with "My People" yet? My People? Who am I, Moses? I tell her "No."



12:55 A guy walks up and asks if Rex is a Belgian. "Yes," is my reply. He then proceeds to tell me about his Belgian and that he rides it. "You must have had a pretty wide tree on your saddle for it to fit him. I imagine it's kind of like straddling a Volkeswagon."

I can tell by the way he's looking at me he had no idea what a saddle "tree" is. He wanders off.

1:00 I call Ro, she confirms that the person booking the ride was advised the "ride would be over at 1:30." See, when you make an appointment, your "ride" starts when your appointment begins. So, for example, if you had booked this ride, I've been on your ride for half an hour now. You just haven't been present.

1:05 Rex and I lose the shade since we've now been sitting at West Gate forever.

1:07 A mom and two kids walk out of the Museum of Church Art and History. One of the kids starts hacking away on a cheap harmonica. This annoying noise goes on for a full five minutes. If I didn't have a horse to attend to, Harmonica would become a suppository.

1:08 Young man in a white shirt and red tie strides purposefully to me while chatting on a cell phone. He asks if I am there for the blahblah wedding and I say "Yes." He states "They're running a little late." I advise, "Yeah, they have twenty-two minutes left."

1:13 Rex falls asleep.

1:14 Red tie returns and asks if they can extend the ride. "Sure, but it'll cost forty buck for a half hour," I say. He wanders away, cell phone glued to his ear.

1:15 I move Rex forward about ten feet so we're back in the shade again. I take my fancy jacket off because a river of sweat if now running down between my shoulder blades. My pits are soaked. If I was a fruit, I would now be ripe.

1:21 The Bride and Groom, along with red tie, the photographer, and the father of the someone arrive. They ask if they can still get their ride. I tell them "Sure, but it'll be really short. Why don't you take some nice pictures while your photographer is here." I put my fancy black jacket back on.

So they did. And they got about a 12 minute ride, along with lots of photos.

And that's how I spent my Thursday, and why I hate driving weddings.