Most bridal party and out-of-town guests gather at Hugo and Diana’s before we all climb into cars and head to the chapel for the wedding rehearsal.
Stick and I pull out of their complex and immediately make a wrong turn. We make another wrong turn a moment later. And another, until we’re facing the opposite direction from where he intended to go.
“The others might have to wait a couple minutes for us,” I said, “but I’m sure they won’t start without us.”
“They can’t.” Stick said. “They’re following me.”
Ok, I’ve accused you in the past of exaggerating or embellishing stories. But this is pretty much exactly what happened.