3:15 p.m. Butch and Adair are on their way out the door. Halfway to the truck, A says, “Wait. Should I go get the invitation?” B replies, “No, no. It’s not like it’s some kind of admission ticket. I know where we’re going, basically–just pull up the GPS when we get near downtown and we’ll be fine.”

4:15 p.m. A and B pull up to the Ashton Hotel in downtown Fort Worth. A comments, “I am pretty sure the invitation said there would be valet parking.” B is his normal lucky self and scores a free street space directly across from the hotel’s front door. He points out the truck unloading white folding chairs and observes that 4:15 seems pretty late for chairs to be arriving for a 4:30 wedding.

4:17 p.m. There’s not much activity in the lobby at all. The lady at the front desk is flustered and says she knows nothing about a wedding, but confides that her shift has just begun. She informs A and B that all ceremonies at the Ashton take place on the second floor and points out the correct elevators to use.

4:20 p.m. After riding up to the second floor with a rolling pallet of folding chairs, A and B set foot on a mostly deserted scene. A tiny crew is setting up for a ceremony in one room and the other meeting room is locked. No other guests are in evidence. A and B go back downstairs.

4:25 p.m. The flustered front desk lady looks in her book and volunteers that a wedding is, in fact, scheduled for today, but not until 5:30. A asks, “Amelia Daniels’ and Brent Austin’s wedding, right?” but in all her confusion, the lady never really answers. A is 99% sure she had the correct time, but since she has a history of getting scheduling wrong, wrong, wrong, it is assumed that this particular brand of idiocy has struck once again.

4:30 p.m. A and B walk half a block west to the Library Bar for a couple of drinks since they have about an hour to kill. It is remarked that everything seems a little surreal, a little off, and it’s also odd that they haven’t seen many wedding participants at all, much less anyone they recognize.

5:10 p.m. A and B go back to the second floor of the Ashton Hotel, which is still almost completely deserted. B chats up the only other person on the floor, a twenty-something girl sitting by herself in a chair against the wall. B discovers that she’s the wedding officiant. She volunteers, “Sam and I have been friends for almost all our lives.” A and B wonder if Brent’s nickname is Sam. B shares, “My wife walks the bride’s dog, and the groom works for one of my larger customers.” It’s the wedding officiant’s turn to look puzzled, but she just laughs and says, “Oh, really?”

5:15 p.m. Someone in charge (the hotel’s event planner?) materializes on the second floor and says it’s ok for A and B to go on in and have a seat. The room is completely empty except for a boy and girl with a guitar sitting at the front of the room. B asks, “Shouldn’t there be more people here already? The wedding is at 5:30, right?” The woman who may be the event planner says that everyone was gathering downstairs first, but at this point, we may as well go in and have a seat. For several uncomfortable minutes, it’s just A and B and the two people with the guitar who are sitting in front, facing the (nonexistent) crowd. B whispers to A, “This is a really small affair. Just 50 chairs are here!” A whispers back, “I know! It’s such an honor to be invited!”

5:25 p.m. The guitar duo starts to sing a song A and B have never heard before, ever. It’s still just the four of them in the room. The situation is awkward, to say the least, but thank goodness two tall girls with matching buzz cuts and wingtips come in and sit down. They are joined by a very short guy with a briefcase equipped with a shoulder strap. The woman who might be the wedding planner pokes her head in the room, and B motions for her to come over. “This is the Daniels-Austin wedding, right?” The possible planner says, “I don’t know the last names, but the brides’ names are Holly and Sam, short for Samantha.” A says, “Oh no! That’s not right! I don’t know how we got it wrong! I’m positive Amelia and Brent’s wedding was at the Ashton today!” Possible planner says, “I think I may have bad news. Did you know there’s an Ashton Hotel in Dallas?”

5:30 p.m. Since A and B have both ingested alcoholic beverages, they cannot jump in the truck and hightail it to the Ashton in Dallas. They resign themselves to leaving the truck in the primo parking space and walking to P.F. Chang’s for an early dinner. A knows it is all her fault for just assuming the wedding was at the Ashton Hotel in Fort Worth, and is sad, but manages to choke down every bite of dinner. B eats all of his dinner, too.

9:00 p.m. A and B walk in the front door of the house and make a beeline for the wedding invitation on the kitchen counter. It’s then they discover that there is a venue called the Ashton Depot in downtown Fort Worth, and that it’s different from the Ashton Hotel. It’s also determined that the Ashton Depot is actually only about a mile from the Ashton Hotel.

9:05 p.m. A says, “You know, the whole darned evening was absolutely surreal.” B agrees.