My husband and I got married a few years ago. We got married at a Las Vegas hotel (we lived in Vegas at the time) and we each had two attendants. My two attendants “Kiley” (MOH) and “Sarah” were ladies I worked with and had become very close with. The best man, “Gary”, was a gentleman with whom my husband has been best friends since gradeschool and the other groomsman, “Steve”, was a man whom both the groom and best man had been friends with for quite a few years. They were a very tight-knit threesome.
My husband and I were financing the entire wedding by way of a financial gift from my parents. It was not a large gift, but it was enough to pay for just about everything for the wedding of our dreams. Neither of us wanted a stuffy formal affair. We wanted a ceremony and basically a party afterward.
Long story short, after the hotel completely fouled up our reception room reservation, they gave us the mother of all upgrades to a 3000 square foot 4 bedroom suite on a security floor. Our 75 guests were treated to a beautiful ceremony and were then handed “security keys” and directed upstairs to the designated room.
My husband and I finished the photos after about 30 minutes and arrived at the reception. Our parents had done a great job of setting up all the food and the bar area so our friends could enjoy hors d’ourves and cocktails while waiting for us. When we arrived, everyone seemed to be comfortable and we began to circulate.
I guess my first red flag should have been when I saw Steve’s brother, “Kenny” behind the bar. Kenny had a reputation for being a partier, but my husband and Steve had both given him a talk about behaving at the reception and Kenny had agreed to behave himself. We weren’t too worried, though. Kenney was known to have a few too many, but he was never violent or anything like that, just loud.
Throughout the night, Kenny did not move from behind the bar. I knew he was drinking, but since he wasn’t drinking so much that others were shorted, we didn’t think to care.
As the party was winding down, the last few people were subtly escorted out by my dad. Kenny was one of the last to go. Finally, it was only my husband, my parents and his mom and sister. We were all sitting around just talking and laughing and saying what a great party it had been. Then we hear someone banging on the door. My dad goes to open it and it’s Kenny. He’s drunk and wanting to pick up his coat which he had forgotten. Ok, it’s Vegas in August. I think he could have survived without it, but he DID leave it, so we gave it to him and my dad told him that the party is now OVER and that there would be plenty of time tomorrow for more socializing.
The night progresses uneventfully and finally everyone go to their respective rooms and my husband and I are left to our wedding night. We’re doing what all newlyweds do when all of a sudden the phone rings. I pick it up, thinking that it HAS to be an emergency because everyone we know knows that this is our wedding night. It’s Kenny wanting to know where Steve is because he can’t reach him on his cell. I tell him, in no uncertain terms that I have no idea where Steve is and that he is not to call again. Kenny says OK.
Two hours later, the phone rings again. I almost don’t answer it, but then I do. It’s the Las Vegas police department telling me that someone they arrested wants to talk to my husband as his one phone call. It was Kenny. He’d gotten arrested for a drunk and disorderly after being trespassed from the hotel property and since he was never able to reach Steve on his cell he called us to ask us to bail him out. My husband told him to f**k off and hung up the phone. We called the front desk and told them NO MORE PHONE CALLS (something that we should have done after the first call)!
Steve ended up bailing Kenny out the following morning and none of us talked to Kenny for almost a year afterward. We’re all friends again, but whenever Kenny starts drinking again, we remind him of his not-too-appropriate conduct and it helps him resist “just one more”! 10-10-08