The summer is flying by and sadly I have yet to record anything that has happened this season, like when I was almost killed doing a prom, or the following weekend when I was almost killed doing a prom. I have had good intentions to revisit these events in writing. However, Ryan’s story last Saturday has effectively rendered all others insignificant. I am not even sure I have the words…
I was working a small uneventful job, when I received a text from Ryan describing the smoking hotness of his bride. This was not unusual as he gets brides of smoking hotness all the time. The term “my hottest bride ever” had been used more than once, so I took it with a grain of salt. However, the words of his next text had most definitely never been used before: “I just helped her out and in to her dress.”
I called him immediately after my show to get the sordid details. He was on cloud 9 and would have exploded without someone to tell the story. I am paraphrasing at best but here it is:
Ryan recognized the bride at once. This was her second marriage and she had 10 year old daughter, but she had compensated with lots of plastic surgery - fake boobs, ass lift, tummy tuck, the works. Fortunately her surgeon had the hands of Michelangelo and the end result left Ryan speechless. The perfectly sculpted tan body, along with her brown eyes and long dark hair easily put her in the category of Dream Woman.
She was also one of his biggest fans, having booked him almost two years ago. She had even gone so far as to write the bridal show coordinator a letter of recommendation, promoting him for center stage. This was before he even did her reception. Needless to say she was extremely excited to have him.
However a wardrobe malfunction threatened to ruin her perfect night. Her dress came unbustled making it impossible to dance and have a good time. Normally this is where the bridesmaids swoop in and make everything all better. Unfortunately, her bridesmaids were very drunk and in no shape to bustle. Her high strung mother was equally drunk and worthless.
So it fell upon Ryan to save the day. For some reason he never did explain, he had an earring in his music case. He grabbed it, pushed his way through the crowd of drunk bridesmaids in the ladies room and went to work. The photographer took several pictures of him under the brides dress. Why the photographer was in the bathroom was also never explained.
I am not sure where the hell Ryan learned to “bustle”, but he got the job done. With the dress repaired, the bride and her inebriated entourage returned to the dance floor. Sadly the party had barely a chance to get started before disaster stuck again. The bride was ready to finally shake what her mama gave her, when someone stepped on her dress. There was a sickening rip to the $3000 fabric, rendering it useless.
The bride fled back to the ladies room in tears. She had yet to have a single drink or have a chance to unwind and now her perfect night appeared ruined. Her very drunk and unwound bridesmaids were not helping the situation. As Ryan tried to analyze the damage, their “help” did nothing but aggravate the stressful situation. Ryan looked at the bride and asked “Would it be easier if were just the two of us?” The bride said “absolutely” and with that Ryan proceeded to kick everyone out of the ladies room.
Now completely alone with his hottest bride ever, Ryan tried to stay focused on the dress. He struggled for some time but was unable to make any progress. Then the bride asked the unthinkable: “If I took the dress off, would you be able to fix it then?”
Completely stunned, he somehow was able to answer “yes”. Ryan watched with unbelieving eyes as the bride took..off..her..dress. He now found himself alone with his hottest bride ever wearing nothing but white stockings and a thong. There was no bra to be found.
In the most professional voice he could muster he said “I don’t mean to sound perverted, but I have to tell you this. You are perfect.” Completely unfazed the bride thanked him for the compliment. Every fiber of his testosterone charged body screamed at him to ravage this beauty. Yet somehow, with a herculean effort deserving of poetry and monuments, he turned his attention to the dress.
Using an assortment of items he found lying around, he was abe to McGyver the dress back in to one piece. All he had to do now was get it back on the bride. This required him to get behind her, with only an inch or two between her naked skin and Mr. Happy. As he squeezed the fabric over her incredibly firm ass, he was alarmed to realize he was becoming aroused.
He finished as quickly as he could and ran out of the bathroom before making a mistake that would almost definitely end his DJ career not to mention two marriages. The groom was surprisingly accommodating, poking fun at Ryan. “Hey man, I thought it was my job to take her dress off!” Indeed it was, so at the end of the night, Ryan actually had to teach him how remove the fabric from his lovely new bride. It was of course a theoretical explanation, not a demonstration.
At that point Ryan, shook the groom’s had and said “Sir, I just want to congratulate you in more ways than you will ever know.”
The level of professionalism, courage and fortitude Ryan displayed on that night will never be truly appreciated. On behalf of DJ’s everywhere I salute him.
Lucky bastard.