Wedding Furore

After hearing my alarm go off early for my jog, I determinedly ignored my conscience and went back to bed - which was just as well as it started pouring minutes later. My slight guilt resolved, I had just snuggled comfortably into my blanket when minutes later, a car horn sounded loudly. I ignored that. If you live next to a carpark, you get used pretty soon to the sounds of motocycles firing up, speed demons raring about (occasionally), school buses looming in and of cause, car honking.

This morning was different.
First, one car honked, then followed by another and then another in a rising crescendo. I stumbled out, not as blearily as I would have liked, which shows how futile my snooze had been, and went to the window, convinced that some large vehicle like a lorry or van must be blocking the only exit/entrance to the carpark. Of course it wasn't. There was a wedding SUV parked outside the lift entrance to my block, and I knew then which twits had been the cause of my less than tranquil time in bed.

Muttering to myself, and still wrapped in my blanket, I stalked out of the room, slightly amused and rather annoyed. A quick glance at the other bed in the room indicated that my sister was apathetic to all noises and still asleep - I suspected on purpose.

And, so, grumbling about how the groom and gang was likely still high from their stag party, I went to the kitchen and found my mom at the window there. I joined her there and being busybodies, began commenting on their choice of wedding carriage, flowers, colour scheme etc. For the record, the SUV was silver, and bundled in white flowers on white ribbon. Apparently, the wedding planner had anticpated well in advance the uncooperative weather (more fit for a funeral) and the wedding entourage were sheltered from the elements by a matching pair of large black and white umbrellas and several smaller blue ones. Additionally, the men were all, as I noted with a snort, togged in palish pink-lavender shirts. Pants were black; they were clearly not that insane yet.

All normal so far, and I couldn't help but make snide comments about how men were generally idiots. My dad on the other hand, as the only male in the house and a misanthrope, was making his usual cynical comments that the bride was likely from China. I doubted it very much. Firstly, it wouldn't be the bride's fault, as she is the one waiting for her groom to appear, and such failure to abide by the usual custom seemed more the work of a contemporary Singaporean. Secondly, my dad tended to blame anything and everything on either the Government or China. My theory was that these lot had probably in their life up til then been part of some wretched well-meaning if ridiculous student council for them to commence with the further stupidity that would come next:

They got into their cars (I make that about 5 or 6) and getting into line with the wedding car in front, began a roundabout round the rubbish dump next to my block, honking for their worth and I suspect, grinning inanely at the cameraman, who squatted in the middle of the road to take their pictures. Then, abruptly, when the honking had reached its zenith, somebody in the block, to my right and downwards suddenly yelled in what appeared to be either a sleepy or drunken slur, "You B******! ASS****! Damn F****** P****S!" My dad, who has a puritan mindset worthy of the Aunts of the Victorian period, triumphantly uttered, "They deserve it! Probably from China!" The wedding entourage, which had still been attempting the slow roundabout came to a standstill, and the honking stopped. The rude yelling went on, and one could almost sense the wedding party wilting from the searing criticism they were receiving.

The sort amusement which I had not been enjoying in a while was wiped away in an instant both by the yelling jerk and my dad's comments. My mom replied by saying he was an unfeeling person, and while we both agreed that 6 cars honking early on a Saturday morning was a bit much, the wedding didn't deserved to be cursed and swore at. Someone could have just yelled, "Stop honking!" or "Quiet!" instead of all that. What could have been a funny early morning spectacle ended up being dampened by someone who clearly took life too seriously.

Then, of course, being that sort of family, the topic jumped from a vehicle of one sort to another, which is of the F1 variety. My dad still complained about the Government, I ended up on the opposite side and defended its decision to host the race... and such is one morning flown by even though I had wanted to work on my essay...