Classic City Events

 I miss my husband. I lost him in 2019; it was a very awful, sudden shock.  Life goes on.  Because I still grind through this mourning ( it is nothing like it used to be, thank you Jesus), I hate to go to weddings.  There are times when it can't be helped.  I recently attended a wedding that was scraped together by something called Classic City Events in Angola, Indiana.  Uck.

First, Classic City is the local nickname for a much different town, Auburn, Indiana. There is a world of difference between these two places. One is a very snooty, thinks very highly of itself, small town. The other is a lake community, with a small college, and it's nothing like the snooty place. 

Ironically, the guy who runs the event place is also family to a GIANT trailer park in this very snooty town. At one time, his grandfather was the mayor.  There are loads of issues about the guy.  His family keeps him on an allowance. Yep. An allowance to manage himself. A grown man who cannot manage his own money from his family, so he is given an allowance, much like my 14-year-old boy. 

So I am at this wedding, and to say that it was hillbillyesque would be quite the understatement.  The bride was in tears.  Her mother was in tears.  The place is supposed to manage music, photography, something called a photobooth, floral arrangements,  pretty much everything you need to have a wedding shin dig without the food. 

From what I was told, the "DJ" cued up the wrong music from the first dance to the Bride/Father dance and beyond.  The flowers were the wrong ones. The guy who was reached graciously offered to take 25% off the final bill for getting everything wrong. 

Essentially, they paid a little over 4k for someone else's wedding.  In the end, my friends decided to make the best of it and began taking small wagers on the next thing that would be wrong. You laugh or you cry, right?  In the end, this bride and groom left for their 10-day honeymoon cruise and left their mothers to sort out the horrible pictures (at least a third were substandard), and the photobooth was, as the father of the groom described, "a balls up"

Take this for what you will. Hire them, don't hire them. But if you get the wrong music playlist, sad flowers, gritty wedding photographs, and a miserable experience, at least you were warned.