Kissing Cousins

You know what we haven’t done in a while? A lot. Yeah, there is a pretty long list of things that we haven’t done in a while. But right now I’m specifically talking about the Most Embarrassing Things I’m Willing To Publicly Admit blog posts that you may or may not have missed. A recent discovery (that we are most certainly NOT going to discuss any time soon) reminded me of a story from one of those “nights I can’t remember but won’t soon forget”. Let me tell you about the time that I hit on my cousin… Wait… I didn’t know! I did not know that she was my cousin at the time, ok? Before I go any further in the story and you start thinking that I’m some incestuous perverted <insert string of insults here>, let me say again that I had NO idea that we were related. Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way…

I’m not going to go into a ton of backstory here because this story is embarrassing enough without it, but there was a time when I was basically a borderline alcoholic. I did a good bit of binge drinking. My mom’s wedding fell smack dab in the middle of that time period. I invited my buddy Drew, and we had what I still believe is a decent plan. We went to the venue two hours early to help setup. There was a bar on site, so we figured that we could get a buzz going before the wedding started that would last through the ceremony.

The problem, well one of them, was that everything was already setup by the time that we arrived at the venue. And the bar/kitchen was closed. However, one of the managers decided to open the bar up just for us. So we had two hours of nothing to do but drink. The plan remained the same, when people started showing up we switched to water. Right before the ceremony started we were asked to be ushers, and we were told that we had a place to stay and a ride after the wedding… So… We ran back to the bar and got some to-go shots.

We made it through the ceremony ok. The tables at the reception had bottles of wine on them, two per table, which we absentmindedly thought were just for us. When we realized that they were for the entire table we started asking other tables if they could give us a bottle to share with the other members of our table. Our table told us not to worry about it, but we were determined to set things right. Somehow in our quest for one bottle we came up with five. And our table was apparently ok with us drinking the first two bottles because noone else at the table drank. So we did the respectable thing.

We poured drinks for the table, and we drank said drinks, for the table. At some point in the “oh you’re not going to drink that, well I don’t mind if I do” I noticed that I didn’t recognize anyone at the table. And one of them seemed to really enjoy Drew and I’s banter. She was close to our age, and um… Now that we all know that I’m talking about my cousin let’s just say that she’s not ugly. Cool? Cool.

As we proceeded to finish off those five bottles I took every opportunity I could to start a conversation with her. She’d engage, being friendly but nothing more. Which was good because my mind wasn’t working well enough for much more anyway. Until the music came on. Drew and I made our rounds, table to table, pulling people out of their seat, and ushering them onto the dance floor. Before I could make it back to our table I was being called to the dance floor for a mother-son dance.

I don’t know if the idea hit me beforehand, but during that dance I decided that it might be a good idea to ask about the lady at my table. Let me remind, at this point I am hammered. My Mom tells me that the lady is my cousin, and my response was “what kind of cousin?” I mean, I have quite a few ‘family members’ that aren’t actually family. It made sense to ask. She didn’t go into more detail, she just laughed and repeated that we were cousins. I asked “by blood?” And I got the same response. Then I asked “like second or third cousins? Or are we talking like fifth or sixth cousins?” I got the same response, but by this time we had danced our way over to my grandma who overhead part of our conversation. Of course my Mom decided to let her in on the joke and they had a laugh at my expense.

Now, I didn’t feel the need to mention this before, but now it feels pretty relevant. My grandmother is a minister. I’m like 90% sure that between my 10th and 30th birthdays not a drop of alcohol passed her lips. And she officiated (that’s what you call it right? Or is that sports?) my mom’s wedding. During the ceremony, Drew and I were on either side of the wedding party, and in the middle of the ceremony my Granny (my sweet sweet Granny) said “I think I might catch a contact drunk from these two”… That was before we had any wine.

Yep, that happened. I’m not really sure how to end this. After that dance I increased my amount of drinks and decreased my interactions with my cousin. To the point where I basically more or less kinda sorta completely avoided her for the rest of the night. I’d say I handled it well.

~

Until next time, do NOT keep it in the family.

P.S. Crazy how hard it is to find pictures relating to myself hitting on someone in my family. This is as close as it gets. Fortunately/unfortunately, this picture isn’t from that day/night. And those drinks didn’t belong to just me. I met up with a friend and her boyfriend for dinner, and that is what the three of us had… Admittedly, I am only responsible for one of those drinks, but it is a pretty accurate representation of the plethora of drinks that I consumed at the wedding…

P.S.S. Oh, also, we never kissed! Didn’t even come close. In my mind I was hitting on her but luckily in her mind I was just being funny. Still, the title “kissing cousins” somehow seems fitting for this post. Awkward, but fitting.

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