Day 26: The Wedding Crasher

As most of you know we had a little rain last weekend. And since then Nashville has been an outstanding example of what a Community should be. There has been overwhelming support donated in time, supplies, and money from people of all walks of life to the victims of the flood. So not to be out done, my friends and I decide to clean out our closets and donate some items to the flood victims last Saturday. And because we are who we are, we did this with the accompaniment of beer and some cocktails (and yes it was 10 in the morning, don't judge me).

I tell you that to tell you this.

After our 10am Purge Party I decided that I would the one who would take the items to the clothing drive at a nearby church (you can call me Saint Augustine, I don't mind). At this point I haven't showered, I have on what I slept in the night before (literally), and I am pretty sure I haven't even brushed my teeth. Do you think I noticed all of the cars filling the church parking lot or the 9 girls walking in wearing the same lemon yellow chiffon tea-length dress. Nope. Like the good Samaritan I prided myself to be, I pulled my car right up to the front door and loaded my arms with all of my goodies and marched straight into the church.

Here's the Scene:

Candles are lit, soft music is playing, there is an older man in a tuxedo wiping a tear in his eye as he looks onward. The bridal party is looking on from a few yards away as they give privacy to the bride and groom who are seeing each other for the first time before they pledge their eternal love and devotion to each other before God and State. The bride is covering her mouth in disbelief that this day is finally here. The Groom is holding his breath as he sees his bride in white for the first time.
And then I walk in.
I didn't grasp what was going on at first as I was clomping my way through the lobby (I'll admit, I'm not the most observant person in the world) until I stopped 5 feet from the happy couple. I managed to get out a "Uh. Whoops. Umm, Congratulations?" and then ducked to the nearest open door to escape my mortification. And so to the world I might be a good Samaritan, but to the Harris family I will forever be "that Homeless Lady at our wedding that smelled like day-old bacon and beer." Cheers.