My Strange Experience

It was the morning after the night before. I was aroused by the sound of the stereo from downstairs and the smell of bacon permeated the air. Usually such an odor would be from paradise, but not today, for my throat was thirsty and my head dizzy.

I rubbed my eyes tried to focus on my surroundings. Yes, I was in my flat, though I couldn't remember how I got back here last night. The only plausible thing I could recall was meeting my best friends Brian and George at an urban cafe before we left for the college ball. Just who was downstairs making themselves at home, I wondered.

My eyes suddenly fixed on the female underwear lying on the chair next to my bed. On the floor below lay a white crumpled dress. I blinked twice to be sure that my eyes weren't deceiving me. It wasn't just any old dress-it was a superb wedding dress!

I stumbled out of bed, suddenly fully alert, my heart beating wildly in my chest. I tried to think back to the previous enening, but there appeared to be an alcohol-induced gaping hole in my memory. Suddenly, a few obscure images were evoked-there was a smiling ambassador, rings were being exchanged. Brian and George were there too, I was sure of it. Did I get roaring drunk and marry a complete stranger?

Surely they wouldn't have let me go through with it, my supposedly intimate friends? They wouldn't let me get married-or were they also so drunk that they didn't care? It had to be a bad dream. But then who was down in my kitchen cooking breakfast and listening to the radio? It certainly wasn't my flatmate for I didn't have one. I crept over to my wardrobe and fished out some clean clothes-sock, jeans and an old T-shirt-anything to cover myself up from the strange woman downstairs who'd left her underwear and silky wedding dress beside my bed.

Just then I remembered a Mediterranean film I had seen once about a man and a woman who got drunk and ended up getting married two hours after meeting. I sat on the bed, trying to rack my brain for answers. Surely I couldn't have been so stupid! I looked over at the crumpled dress on the floor and my heart sank as I thought of how my poor parents would react when I broke the news:"Hi mum, hi dad-I just got married to a complete stranger I met when I was drunk, Sorry I didn't invite you, but it happened so fast..."

I couldn't possibly do it. Here I was only 21 and had just received a diploma in architecture, had a brilliant job lined up already. Mom and Dad were so proud of me at my graduation a week ago. What a mess!

I could hear the clatter of plates coming from downstairs and the buterflies in the pit of my stomach began multiplying by the second. It was time to face the music. I would go downstairs and choose my words carefully. Whoever I had married, surely she would be most likely to be full of regrets also? No one could be that arbitrary to get married, could they?

"Listen," I'd say as politely and as calmly as possible."I'm sure you're an elegant lady and all that, but this was not a good idea for us to get married. It's just not the tight time for me. Another time, another place perhaps, but..." Just then the words "Grub's ready!" reverberated up from downstairs. Hang on, I thought-that's not a woman's voce. In fact I recognized it distinctly. I got up from the bed and cautiously made my way down to the kitchen.

There was a figure lounging on the couch, tapping the table. In fact, it was Brian, my best friend. He graduated one year earlier than me. A year later he became the chief clerk of a commercial association. He turned round to greet me, a huge grin on his face."Well isn't it the new bride!" he quipped cheerfully."What a state you were in last night! You drunk so many cocktail and so much champagne that I thought I'd better bring you home and stay over the night!""What happeded?" I pleaded."You made lovely bride," he laughed,"don't you remember-it was the final college ball last night. Fancy dress. You insisted on swapping outfits with some girl who was dressed as a bride. There was someone dressed up as an ambassador, and hey-you married George!" With this he collapsed into heaps of laughter as I breathed a huge sigh of relief."And," he added,"you two even exchanged rings!"

I looked down at my hand. Sure enough, there on the third finger of my left hand was an absurd ring-pull from a beer can.

Suddenly I had a robust appetite. I picked up a chunk of steak sausage and bit into it, thinking to myself how lucky I was to be young, free and single...
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