How Not To Bridesmaid: The Incident (The Finale)

How Not To Bridesmaid: The Activities (Part Two) Continued…

“What the hell’s happened?!”

“Debbie just get here now.”

I hung up the phone and looked to the other bridesmaid:

“I need to go to the other apartment.”

Then the bride stepped in:

“Debbie – what’s happened?”

“One of the uni girls is in a bad way.”

“Anna should go with you, she’s a nurse so can help if something’s the matter.”

“Oh yes, of course.”

 I wasn’t planning on going over just to hysterically laugh at my friend’s misfortune. 

Myself and Anna ran across the street and entered the apartment.

The friend who had informed me of the incident opened the door:

“Louise, what has happened here?! Why isn’t the lift working?!!!”

“They’re all in there Debbie…”

We entered the room and there they all stood – guilt ridden (absolutely bollocksed) whilst the other was curled up in a bed, pale and barely recognisable:

“WHAT’S HAPPENED TO HER?!”

“We think she ate a bad mussel…”

“A bad mussel!? Look at her!!

 

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“Well, we had some wine too…”

“I thought you were going sightseeing?!!”

“We were but then… we got distracted.”

I observed my uni girls – whilst Anna dealt with the other.

Who looked close to reaching her final hours on earth…

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“Right. Before any of you go out to dinner, one of you is going to tell me exactly what happened.”

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“NOW.”

One stepped forward.

“Yes Becky…”

“We were meant to go visit the Cathedral…”

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“But then we found that popular street Las Ramblas, so thought we’d get some lunch.”

“Is this where the “evil mussel” made its attack?”

“Well we had some food, mainly tapas but she had the seafood paella – then we ordered a bottle of wine…”

“How many?”

“How many what?”

“Bottles Becky, how many bottles of wine?”

“One…”

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“Ok, we had five then a couple of jugs of sangria.”

“Fucking hell?! It was two in the afternoon?!”

“Well, that’s when it all went a bit south…”

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“We’d been drinking for a couple of hours, then she was just suddenly smashed.”

Suddenly?! Mate, after five bottles, I’m amazed you weren’t all smashed?!

I’d probably be sticking breadsticks up my arse and galloping round the restaurant like a startled gazelle.

“Well, she was more drunk than the rest of us and started becoming really vocal, and you know when her eyes start doing that funny thing?”

“What that thing where it looks like she’s injected a litre of heroin and they roll to the back of her head?”

“Yeah, that’s it…”

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“…Then she disappeared to the toilet for ages. Eventually some girls emerged from the bathroom and told us they were worried and thought she was on drugs, and just as they said this she came storming out with her pants round her ankles and yelled-”

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“So did you take her home?!”

“No, told her to pull her pants up and stop attention seeking”

“Fair…”

“Then she began looking a bit pale – so we hailed a cab to take us back to the apartment. But then the taxi driver chucked us out!”

“Why?!”

“Half her body was hanging out the window.”

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“And as we were walking back to the apartment she started feeling sick and began retching into a flower pot outside this really nice restaurant.”

“What time was this?”

“About 3:30 in the afternoon.”

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“Then it got really bad…”

“How?!”

 

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“Well, we thought she was turning around to go but then she started…”

“What?!”

 

“…Lowering her arse towards the flower pot”

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“DID SHE SHIT ON THE STREET?! What the fuck did you do?!”

 

“Ran away”

Laughing-Histerically

 

“Honestly it was so embarrassing Debbie”

“YOU LEFT HER SQUATTING IN FRONT OF A RESATAURANT OF PEOPLE OVER A FLOWER POT!”

“Well we went back after like 10 minutes”

“10 MINUTES?!”

“Debbie you would’ve done the same!”

(I probably would’ve been on the opposite pot also about to shit out what’s left of my dignity) 

“We grabbed her by each arm, apologised to the people in the restaurant and dragged her back to the apartment- ”

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“But what’s happened to the apartment?! The entrance stinks of sick and the lift isn’t working?!”

“Well yeah – then something else happened”

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“We got stuck in the lift, then she collapsed to the floor and we started yelling for help!”

Then Louise stepped in…

“All I could hear was them shouting: “NOT HERE – DON’T YOU DARE!!!” so I began pressing all the buttons and thankfully the lift door opened and they came flooding out yelling:

 

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“Then she fell out the lift and projectile vommited…”

“Everywhere.”

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Dangerous Rating:

The following morning we all headed for breakfast, the girl who had suffered “the incident” was feeling a little fragile – so I took her to one side and tried to put a positive spin on the situation…

And made it worse.

“Debbie, seriously I have never been so mortified.”

“Babe, the way I see it – when you’re 40 would you rather look back at your (late) 20’s and see an expensive mortgage and a sexless marriage or -”

“I’d rather see anything then nearly shitting in the street Debbie!”

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