Destination Wedding

On my own wedding day I did my own makeup, polished my own nails, and did my own hair. You can tell how long ago that was. In today’s culture that would be viewed as Cinderella-worthy cruelty.

I’m always wary of travelling on the day of a simcha, yet we decided to drive the three hours on the day of the wedding because “someone” prefers to sleep in his own bed. There had been much talk about the possibility of driving there with a child or grandchild, but after discussion with the doctor, who was more comfortable with our driving our own car by ourselves, we decided to sleep over in a hotel as opposed to driving back the night of the wedding.

That morning I carefully applied all the requisite extra-duty makeup, creams, lashes, and lotions. (I now have a deeper appreciation of the magic that happens in front of the mirrors of these talented make-up artists.) I reconfirmed our hotel reservation, grabbed water and snacks, punched the address into Waze, and off we went.

Speeding along on a highway going almost 70 mph in 96-degree heat and Baltimore humidity is not the time to find out that the air-conditioning in the car is not working. By this point, we were too far into the trip to turn around. And just about then, the car started pinging and the locks started going up and down, up and down, up and down. Oh, and the gas gauge was at about a quarter of a tank full…