My darling baby brother, Macaulay/Bill, kindly reminded me of one of the greatest parts of my entire wedding experience. And most of you were witness to this, but…what the hell, since when has redundancy ever stopped me?
So, our rehearsal dinner was held at a Creole (?) restaurant in Cheesecake City. I chose it because it was nice without being too expensive. The best thing on the menu was the Bananas Foster, but this story isn’t about Bananas Foster.
It’s about chocolate cake.
The limited menu we chose for our guests included the above mentioned dessert and their huuuuuge chocolate cake. The damned thing was the size of a porterhouse steak. (Funny story about porterhouse steaks – Macauley/Bill ate one at age 8; in hindsight, that is what we call precedence). At our table it was Gene, me, Brandy, Gene’s best friend (who shall remain nameless because someday maybe he’ll be the President), Mom, Dad, Grandma M and Macauley/Bill.
Gene’s best friend took one look at the cake and said, “I will pay anyone who can eat all of that $20”.
Well, my brother was 21. And broke. And fortunately, hungry. There exists a picture of Gene’s best friend handing over the $20 to my brother. I don’t have it (Bill, do you??) but I have seen it. The cake bet was the hit of the evening, and, at least for my brother (who turned green when offered chocolate cake that next Monday), probably the entire long weekend.
Ta-da.