You Don't Know How Lucky You Are

This past weekend, my cousin Wayne,

cousin 16 of 18,

B's brother,

who was once literally in his father's doghouse, locked inside overnight as punishment,

who rented every single horror film at our local Blockbuster,

who was caught stealing copy machines from the Staples he worked at,

who ingested a bag of mushrooms before seeing Cirque du Soleil in Las Vegas,

the cousin closest to me in age and proximity,

master player of Blast Corps and Twinsen's Odyssey,

he got married.

And now, I, cousin 17 of 18, am on the clock. Heh.

In defense of soy sauce as a wedding favour, the box containing the two bottles was pretty fancy. 60 tables x 12 guests = 720 fancy boxes.

Wikipedia » Wedding reception » Chinese culture » Food:

Traditionally, after the fifth dish of the dinner, the groom and bride and their families will approach each table to toast the guests.

Power hour.

B: Jon, this is Big Uncle's son [cousin 6 of 18].
Jon: Yes, we chatted yesterday.

He looked oddly younger than before, though, and his English was fobbier [cousin 6 of 18 was raised in Japan and is basically Japanese, so we have to converse in English].

I later learned that who I thought was Big Uncle's son was actually Big Aunt's son – cousin 9 of 18 – and felt slightly insulted that he felt the need to converse with me in English.

I need a Gary on Veep to brief me on relatives at family gatherings.

"This is uncle 7 of 8. Father of the groom. He is an instant noodles and soy sauce tycoon."

"This is cousin 3 of 18. She dated Jackie Chan…"

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