Except for me. Now I have a Jo Banks within one block of my home, because I live pretty much at a mall -- moreover, I eat most meals in that mall food court. But, you know, I was busy or something, so I didn't get around to getting fitted. For eight months.
Nick start to spam my cell phone with messages. Sometimes, during his voicemails (I had long since stopped picking up when I saw his number), one could hear April roaring in the background, overturning furniture and saying nasty things about my parents. Eventually, I did, however, get fitted -- took five minutes. You would think that would be the end of it, but it was not, because I also missed the rehearsal; although I got to the Chicago airport with plenty of time to make it to the site in Wisconsin, I spent a few extra hours in the baggage claim finishing the last Harry Potter book, which had just been released.
Anyway, the point is, April still hates me for all this, and has vowed to always do so. And whenever I feel I've finally won her over with my charms, which, as we all know, are boundless, then she'll be some kind of subtle passive aggressive reference to my past sins.
But no longer! Because visiting their abode in the Dallas burbs last weekend, I brought with me a spectacular offering: a fairly expensive greeting card, calligraphied delicately with endless perorations of my remorse. Pictures enclosed. And with that, everyone who's ever met me loves me again.
To Nick and that girl he married
For the Bride and Groom on this day many days after the beautiful occasion that I almost missed because I'm a lazy bastard
Wishing you will forgive me (with all your love and joy) Despite! all the days that have passed/Because I suffer from a long-festering guilt for having almost missed the start of your happy life together, but, in my defense that last Harry Potter book was really good -- and though that doesn't excuse, you know, almost missing the happiest day of your lives, still, cut a Muggle some f@$%ing slack.
Good names for children: (FYI)
Scott but with one T
Scott the Younger
Scotopolous (in case he comes out Greek)
(Female children may be left to die of exposure or named Scottisha)
(Also, I'm sorry I spilled some beer on this card.)