The Epilogue: SLC Punk- One Last Wedding in July!

After safely dispatching my family I realize it's my turn to travel! I have to go to SLC for one more wedding!

I departed friday from JFK on JetBlue for my co-worker's wedding. I love her, she's great and her fiancee also rocks quite hard. My entire team is going it should be fun.

When I get off the plane I race down to the after party for Friday's events. A couple of people I know are around. We're having a great time. Seven dudes end up in a hotel room and people start quoting The Tipping Point and then someone mixes up the concepts in that book with the ones in Unleasing the Idea Virus and suddenly we're having a good time making fun of Jay and calling him the sneezer...

The pop-economic geekery is only momentarily slowed by the occasional overwhelming wif of the gayness of 7 dudes who showed up stag to a wedding. I go back to my hotel room and pass out, because its still July and I still have not slept.

At the wedding the next day some fellow walks up to me and starts TOUCHING MY SHIRT. I don't know this guy and I don't really want to get to know him to the point where it's ok for him to TOUCH MY SHIRT. I ask him what's up

"I just have the same shirt"

"So you know how it feels then..."

"Ted Baker, yeah...i like the shirt. I'm surprised someone else would wear it is all"

"do we know each other?"

"we met last night. I'm surprised that shirt fits well"

I don't know this guy from anyone why is he judging how my shirt fits and more importanly, why is he TOUCHING MY SHIRT

"I usually tailor"

"Really I buy straight off the rack, I have that sort of build"

He drifts off. to rejoin his attractive wife. Who most certainly will one day join the ranks of Terry McMillan and Star Jones as the only women in America who did realize their husbands were gay before it was too late. Pina, who is standing next to me points out that our fem friend is in fact built like pee-wee herman and wonders where he buys shirts for his light weight build. I choose to move on and focus on other things- simosas, mango juice, more simosas...

Around 5pm, I find a client and we start drinking. The client is at the wedding its ok. I work hard to bond with a 68 year old man from the midwest. I ALMOST succeed but its hard to tell. I'm doing well overall.

We all sit down at the table and the party begins. Several speeches are made and some performance pieces go off without a hitch, a bollywood rendition of the couple's courtship is a highlight. An offkey, strained rendition of Oasis' Wonderwall ends the evening on a questionable low note. I have no idea what to do.

My mentor's son turns and asks aloud if its an indian custom to make the guests as hungry as humanly possible. I am snickering...loudly.

They all (my coworkers)take the client to go get steaks so he does not loose face. I am left with the gay shirt toucher and his poor unsuspecting wife, who I suspect could benefit from a proper f*cking...He spends the bulk of dinner regaling me with stories of ironing in hotel rooms. There are moments where I want to cry openly

I run out of gas later than i expect and find my way to my hotel room around 2am.

I wake up and make several calls including one to a girl I think i'm dating, but given my schedule in the month of july and her constant travel schedule, I'd hazard a guess that maybe I'm not. Its hard to say.

I get back to NY on a red eye monday morning and fall asleep watching the most recent episode of Entourage several times.

Little if anything is accomplished at work that week as August rings in.