My Friend's Big Fat Muslim Wedding

My friend Andrew is getting married today and there's a protocol to everything and none of his friends really know what's going to happen.

I'll explain.

Who knows how long ago, maybe eight years, he met his fiance and soon to be wife, Hina. She's Muslim. Years later, in the middle of the night, Andrew converted. I respect his decision, in fact, I don't believe it was a decision as much a life choice. Whether or not others respect that is another story, and that's the reason for this blog.

You see, this is an all-Muslim type of wedding (whatever that means) and we don't really know how to act or behave. There's no dancing, no drinking, but there is a dessert room with crepe station.

Yes, crepe station.

This is how I see my trip to NYC and wedding going down:

8:34 - Hitting the road to pick up friends
9:05 - Leave for NYC
9:10 - First spat with diarrhea stems
9:11 - Pull over and walk into woods with socks on, walk out without socks off
10: 40 - Somebody makes first Muslim joke of the day
10:40:20 - Somebody makes first Catholic fondling joke of the day
11:34 - I say for the first time, "I hope they sacrifice an animal."
1: 20 - We arrive in NYC an hour early and can't check in. We go to Brooklyn and have drinks. For the second time today I mention sacrificing a lamb and drinking the blood would be exceptional.
2:15 - We miss check in by about four shots of Jim Beam.
2:35 - First member of friends goes missing, only to be found puking incessantly in the hotel lobby.
3:14 - While changing for the wedding we find cockroaches in our bathroom. One of us tries to catch it, bangs head on corner of bureau.
3:45 - Leave for pictures with friend.
4:11 - Friend wonders why we're late and notices puke on one of our shoes, getting noticeably more nervous about that than actual ceremony.
4:30 - Pictures are over, we attempt to revive one member of friends with hot coffee.
7:30 - Ceremony starts
7:31 - Ceremony ends. That's right, one minute, the way it should be.
7:35 - I meet some laid back, chill Indian dude and shoot the shit. We talk about baseball and I promptly end the conversation with a question about sacrificing animals and drinking blood.
8: 14 - Really drunk member of friends makes off-color remark about Muslims with group of Muslims present. The band stops playing weird music and everyone looks at friend.
9:20 - Supper is served. 10 minutes early, just like the program promised.
10:00 - Nobody is dancing and awkward conversations are held between various members of my friend Andrew's family and her family. One elder on Andrew's side asks, "Where's Jesus fit into this again?"
11:42 - Dessert rooms are opened. I hallucinate and picture Peter opening the gates of heaven. Crepes are devoured by the dozen. I have a full body erection. A feeling of euphoria overcomes my nether-region like blood rushing to your finger after you nail it with a hammer.
1:30 - Midway through fortieth crepe I quit.
1:56 - My lactose intolerance kicks up and firewater begins to flow.
2:01 - They sacrifice a lamb.
2:14 - I return to the room to cheers and blood dripping from all my friends' faces. I missed it.
5:38 - I try for the eleventh time to go to bed, only to find myself back in the bathroom, reading the miniature shampoo bottle, memorizing the spanish version.
5:55 - I tell myself I'll never eat another crepe every again. I realize I've gotten drunk on crepes.