Getting Married Tomorrow

Getting Married Tomorrow.

A true story, one of about a dozen memories I hope to write up over the next year, or however long it takes.
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It was 1974 and I was working in Christchurch, NZ. Friday’s after work I usually played squash with a mate from my rugby team, and then we headed to the Grenadier Arms, where we would grab a burger or something for dinner and have a few beers with our friends.

This Friday night there were about a dozen of us, girls and guys sitting around a table in the bar. The bar was moderately full, as it was most Fridays nights, people conversing and waiting to find where the action was going to be later in the evening About 6:30pm a very smartly dressed woman came into the bar and moved to the bar to get a drink. Someone in the group made comment, along the lines of “look at that snooty bitch”. Looking over I could see they were not far off the mark, she was about 5′ 8″, dark hair, quite attractive, in a handsome way rather than beauty queen material and really well dressed in a dark suited jacket and skirt with white blouse. But she looked like she should be in an executive meeting of some large corporation, not in a bar on a Friday night. I felt sorry for her as it was obvious that everyone in the crowded bar, was looking at her and making derogatory comments.

I needed a drink, so I got up and moved over beside her at the bar where she was waiting to order. She looked down her nose at me; most guys would have given up and moved away. But I gave her a cheeky remark, which got me a very scathing reply.

“You’re not very friendly tonight. Are you always so uptight or has someone really pissed you off.” I said.

She replied in a very posh voice that matched everything about her. “I just feel a bit out of my comfort zone here. Not the normal sort of place I would frequent.”

I had thought New Zealand, relatively class free, but believe me this lady was very upper class. I had to wonder what the hell she was doing here. But refusing to be flipped off so easily, I told her she reminded me of a joke about a polo player I had once heard and proceeded to narrate the tale. (I find if you can get a woman laughing, you are always half way to paradise).

She did laugh. “Very good, how did you know I play polo?”

“I’d have to be a fucking idiot if I could not pick that. You really do stand out a bit in here.” Something I found when living in England and mixing with the upper classes, they like to swear, and the cruder the better it seemed.

“What are you doing here? And I’m not having a dig at you, just intrigued.”

“I’m getting married tomorrow, and just wanted to get out and do something I may never get a chance to do again. A girl I work with said this was a good place to find some action, parties etc.”

“Yes she’s right, most Fridays and Saturdays if you keep your ears open, you will hear of a party here. What do you want to drink?”


“I don’t want to be beholding to anyone, I will get my own thanks.”


“Hey, you are not going to be beholding to anyone, especially not me. What do you want to drink?”

She backed down and asked for a Campari and Soda.

“Not a good choice,you will not fit in at all drinking that here, let me order for you. You are going to need a buzz on if you want to let your hair down, and Campari is not going to do it. By the way, you are not exactly dressed for a party”

“Yes, I know, but the only way I could get out tonight without raising all sorts of questions, was to stay overnight in the city because of work. That meant I could not really bring any party clothes. The way I feel here, I think it was a bad idea; I may give up and head home.”

“Don’t you dare give up yet, I’ll sort something out.” I said.

I ordered her a double vodka lime & lemonade and myself a bourbon & coke, then we joined my friends. I introduced her as Joy, which is the name she gave me, everyone tried to make her feel welcome, but she really was struggling and I felt quite awkward for her. I did find out a bit more about her however, she was 25, I have to admit I thought she was older than that, and that she had known the guy she was about to marry all her life. His parents and her parents had adjoining farms and it had always been known they would marry. By the sound of things both families were “old money” and owned a great deal of property around Christchurch. She had had a girl’s night out with her friends a few nights earlier, but was starting to realize her life had been very insular and protected.