Wedding Crashers: Thomas and Malone

Malone and Thomas Gregory give the "thumbs up" mid-crash.

With all the free time I have between now and when school starts, I was trying to think of a funny post that would sum up my summer in the Delta. Then suddenly, like an epiphany from above, I remembered the wedding of Emeri Yelverton and Brad Sorrells in Memphis, Tenn.

What makes this story funny is the fact that I am not childhood friends with either the bride or the groom. I am not even acquaintainces with them. In fact, I had never met them before the night of their wedding. And as best I can remember, I don't think I even met them that night. In short, I crashed their wedding (with the help of a few others).

The whole night was so bizarre and so funny that it was literally like a scene from Wedding Crashers. It was as if we had said, "We're coming to your wedding...with or without invitations." I'll start from the beginning:

I had planned on spending the weekend in Memphis with cousin Malone. We hadn't hung out on in a while, and we had both found the perfect weekend to meet up in Memphis. We were going to do the Beale Street scene early Saturday night and meet Anna and Robbie in midtown Memphis before we went home. It was going to be a perfect weekend.

Then, the Friday night before I was to leave, I received a late night voicemail from Malone. "Thomas, it's an emergency. Call me back ASAP."

I was freaking out. I thought there was a death in the family or something. So I called her immediately, at 2 a.m.

"Malone, it's me," I hurriedly said. "What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing," she replied. "I just wanted to tell you to bring a suit tomorrow. We're going to a wedding. I'll fill you in on the details later."

Well, that was a relief. No major emergengies. At least not yet.

The next morning, in my conversation with Malone, I found out that the happy couple-to-be is friends of Merrel Boswell Patridge's sister. Merrel and her husband Bailey had somehow talked Malone (and subsequently, me) into going to this wedding because they didn't know many people in the wedding party.

So bright and early that afternoon, I headed out for Memphis with dark suit in tow. I had talked to Malone and we were meeting up in Olive Branch at Merrel's because Malone didn't have her car. Then, like a bad omen, as soon as I arrived in Merrel and Bailey's, the bottom fell out of the sky. All the lights went off. We were seeing by candlelight.

At that point, Martha, Merrel's sister, had to leave in the monsoon and go to a friend's hotel room to finish her hair, as she was a bridesmaid in the wedding. The three of us just sat around and told stories until the lights came back on and Bailey got home from work (a.k.a. playing golf).

Dressed and ready to go, Merrel, Bailey, Malone and I headed out the door in my car for the reception. Unfortunately, no one knew were the reception was located. And we had only a guess as to where the church was. So we wandered our way to the church and sat out in the parking lot like a car full of stalkers until the first car left the parking lot.

Following the first and only car, we finally made it to the reception site, albeit one of the first cars there. So we just camped out. We found a nice hidden parking spot across the street from the reception site, Le Pavillon (pronounced "Luh Puh-vill-yun" in redneck). It offered plenty of camouflage and a good view of everybody else walking in.

So for the next thirty minutes we just sat in the car. Bailey hosted a George Strait marathon on my iPod and someone had thought far enough ahead to bring some beer, so we just made ourselves comfortable. We talked about everybody we could see walking in to the reception and their probable connection to the bride and groom.

We saw at least one couple enter and leave the reception before we even got out of the car. I think that was the point at which we decided to finally get out of the car and head inside.

As we made our way to the reception, Malone and I noticed two familiar faces. Anna and Ben Avant were somehow connected to the newlyweds and were hanging out by the entrance. We were relieved to know some people there. Shortly after we ran into them, we hit the bar and the smorgasboard that was the food line.

Enjoying the delicious free food and beverages, we lurked in the shadows for a good hour until the intoxicants set in. Then, we decided, it was time to show off our dancing skills.

Malone and I had already decided to be "that couple" at the reception. We were going to be the most obnoxious dancers there (we are always obnoxious, since we don't dance well together anyway). With that, we busted onto the dancefloor, front and center.

All the while, and unbeknownst to us, the official wedding photographer was snapping pictures of us dancing. When we finally realized that we were being photographed, we couldn't help but laugh and think about what Brad and Emeri were going to say when they saw pictures of two people at their wedding that they had never seen before in their lives.

After Malone and I finished dancing, Bailey and I sat in the corner and slaughtered endless bags of red and pink M&Ms that the attendants were handing out to the guests. We talked about how we were "so happy for Emeri and Skinny" (Brad's apparent nickname from college). About how the cheesecake was "just like something Skinny would have at his wedding." And how "Emeri hasn't changed a bit since college."

Basically, we just pretended (as loud as we could) that we actually knew the couple, so the surrounding people would think we were supposed to be there. After it was all said and done, our efforts paid off. No one even so much stopped to ask us how we knew the bride and groom. Then, after everyone had come and gone, there we still were.

Malone had made friends with the barkeep and he was sneaking us leftover wine. We just sat and talked until the clean-up crew arrived. Then we finally left, being the last people at the party to do so. We were so alone, in fact, that I actually changed from my suit into jeans in our camouflage parking lot.

Then we headed out to meet Anna and Robbie at the P&H in midtown. The next morning, we recapped all the funny stories from the night before. And we promised that if ever another Memphis wedding arose that seemed fit to crash, we would be there!