Bradley Tucker ‘Tuck’ Grayson was scurrying about his apartment getting ready for his wedding. His long time best friend and Best Man, ‘Bimbo’ Billy Bryson, had just arrived from picking up the bride-to-be’s suitcases for the honeymoon and was squeezing Tuck’s one measly banged up bag into the trunk of Tuck’s car with all of Prissy’s bags. After closing the trunk Bimbo looked at the freshly washed and waxed black car and thought how much fun it would be when he and the guys decorated it for the wedding after depositing Tuck at the church.
Meanwhile Tuck found himself too nervous to get his bow tie on straight and Bimbo had to not only help him with that but also straighten out Tuck’s cummerbund which was twisted into a real mess. Finally Bimbo drove Tuck to the church and let him out saying “Don’t worry buddy, I won’t let anyone fuck with your car!”
An hour later Tuck found himself nervously sitting in the pastors office with Bimbo twiddling the time away as the guests filled up the enormous sanctuary for the big social wedding of the year in Tallahassee, Florida. Bimbo pulled his chrome plated flask out of his tuxedo jacket as he had over and over before and offered Tuck a drink of Jack Daniels, “C’mon man? You’re as nervous as a whore in church, take a damn drink Tuck!”
This time Tuck acquiesced and took the flask from Bimbo’s hand gulping down every drop of bourbon in it.
“Damn Tuck! You drank it all!” despaired Bimbo while peering into the flask as if looking into it would make some more bourbon appear.
About then the church pastor, Dr. Charles Thurson, III, walked in his office and looked at both Tuck and Bimbo through his half framed bifocals, the kind with the chain around the neck, and asked, “My merry gentleman are you ready to get these proceedings started?”
“You damned right!” exclaimed Bimbo as he got up and brushed past a flabbergasted Dr. Thurson.
“Pardon him please,” asked Tuck as he stood up, “Bimbo may not be in the orange grove anymore but he ain’t never left if you know what I mean.”
“Yes, well let’s move along,” said Dr. Thurson impatiently while pulling Bimbo by the arm.
“Everyone is seated, the music is playing and your lovely bride should be along shortly,” said Dr. Thurson.
Tuck thought about those words “your lovely bride.” His mind quickly ran thoughts about Prissy, the daughter of the state of Florida’s wealthiest and most powerful political lobbyist, “The King of Tallahassee” as some people described him. No doubt in the pocket of most of Florida’s elected officials, the state capital, Tallahassee, was certainly his domain, better yet, his kingdom.
Tuck had met Prissy right after college when they both had begun their first post college jobs as loan officers in one of the state’s largest banking companies with branches covering the entire state. Prissy with all of her connections had already been promoted to a Vice President’s title and she was only 26 years old.
Tuck was relegated to being just another loan officer specializing in loans for small home mortgages, home improvements, automobiles, trucks, mobile homes, motorcycles and boats. But he was very good at it. And he was marrying Prissy after all, and after four years of dating.
Prissy was a very attractive and refined young lady. Many coworkers did not know why she wasted her time on Tuck Grayson, with a working class background growing up in central Florida’s agricultural and orange grove section. Actually, ‘redneck’ was the popular term they used for Tuck’s background. But Tuck had put himself through college and was now a bank loan officer.
As Tuck, Bimbo and Dr. Thurson arrived at the back door to the sanctuary, Marinel, one of Prissy’s bridesmaids came frantically running up to them. Marinel yelled, “We have a problem!”
“Excuse me?” asked Dr. Thurson.
“Yes, Tuck you need to come with me!” insisted Marinel.
Tuck urgently followed Marinel as she hurriedly led him around a corner and down the corridor to the room where Prissy and her bridesmaids had been stored away doing their last minute finishing touches before the ceremony was to begin.
As Tuck entered the room all of the bridesmaids scurried out with a serious scowl on their faces. All that was left was Prissy sitting in a chair slightly teary eyed and not wearing her white wedding dress, next to her sat Arlene, her Maid of Honor, but in Tuck’s mind, Queen Bitch.
Arlene looked at him with her usual disapproving look of superiority, only this time it had the air and smirk of victory.
Tuck looked at Prissy and asked, “Prissy what is the problem, why aren’t you in your wedding dress?”
Prissy looked at Tuck then turned her eyes away from his and stood up with her head held back pridefully she exclaimed, “I cannot marry you Bradley!”
(Prissy had never liked to call him Tuck thinking it was not dignified enough so she had always referred to him by his name Bradley.)
“What?” asked a dumbfounded Tuck. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. It had been Prissy after all that had asked him to marry her.
“You are just not right for me. I can do better!” rudely exclaimed Prissy.
Arlene could barely hold back her victorious grin.
“I was mistaken for being involved with you,” Prissy said, “I am so sorry it had to end this way, but I will never be happy with you, I want caviar and champagne and you are beer and chips.”
At that Prissy and Arlene smartly strutted across the room and out the door.
Tuck stood there flabbergasted and trying to digest everything that had just happened. Then he thought of the guests and his mother sitting out in the sanctuary waiting for the wedding to start.
Tuck ran down the hall and bolted in the door of the sanctuary and walked to the foot of the pulpit. All eyes were locked on Tuck intently as all of the guests wanted to know what was going on.
“There will not be a wedding today folks!” announced Tuck loudly as he found himself just now starting to feel the anger build up inside.
“I was just told that I am not good enough to marry Prissy. I was just told I am beer and chips and I cannot make a caviar and champagne girl happy.”
At that the entire right side or groom’s guest side of the church cranked their necks angrily staring menacingly at the left side, the bride’s guest side of the church.
Tuck’s mother stood up and walked to him and embraced him, “I never liked those high-faluting snots anyhow! You are the one too good for them, son!”
“Thanks mom, I love you,” Tuck said, “Y'all just go out somewhere nice to eat tonight and go back home, you’ll hear from me in a few days. I am going off to do some thinking.”
Tuck hugged and kissed his mother and went out the side door with Bimbo following him.
Bimbo asked, “Damn Tuck what can I do? Anything and I’ll do it for you man!”
“I know Bimbo, but I just want to be alone for a few days,” exclaimed Tuck, “I’ll call you later.”
Tuck scrambled out the side of the church and jogged to the front looking for his car and found it all decorated for the wedding. ‘Prissy & Tuck Forever!’ was scrawled in white shoe polish on the black exterior, streamers hanging off the back. Tuck jumped in cranked the car and burned rubber as he peeled out of the driveway to the church.
Tuck was speeding west down the highway with no particular destination in mind when he saw a car wash. He pulled in to the surprise of the car washers. Tuck exclaimed, “Wash it! Wash it all off!”
A few miles down the road Tuck saw a Salvation Army Donation Box set up on the roadside and pulled over. Tuck walked around back popped the trunk and proceeded to unload all of Prissy’s brand new designer luggage with all of its contents and pile them up in the Donation Box.
That done Tuck hit the road destination unplanned just a feeling that he wanted to go west. And soon he found himself traveling due west on Interstate 10 until he decided to take a short southern detour to see the ocean and soon found himself stuck right in the middle of thousands of scantily clad college students on spring break in Panama City, America’s Redneck Riviera. Traffic was at a near standstill for miles and miles. College girls were flashing their tits and boys flashing moons.
Realizing his mistake Tuck turned and headed back to Interstate 10 and again turned west eventually passing by Pensacola which reminded him of Civil War Admiral Farragut’s famous quote during the coastal invasion against the Confederates at Pensacola Bay, “Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!” And that is just what Tuck did, put his foot to the pedal and zoomed through Mobile, Alabama and Gulfport, Mississippi until he got tired and hungry and decided to spend the night in New Orleans.
Tuck stopped and got a room at a roadside motel and decided to eat at the Denny’s restaurant across the street. He slid into a booth and was looking over the menu realizing how famished he was when he heard a female voice.
“Hi there sweetie! What can I get you to drink?” the waitress asked him.
Tuck looked up and his heart almost stopped. The blond waitress bore a shockingly close resemblance to Prissy who had just dumped him on their wedding day.
Tuck stammered to get an answer out but finally said, “Sweet tea please.”
“Sure thing,” the pretty blond waitress who looked like his ex-fiance said. And she turned and walked back to the kitchen as Tuck watched her ass twist.
All during the meal the pretty blond waitress who had said she went by her nickname, Trixie, had paid particularly close attention to Tuck. He thought he felt a certain vibe, a connection between them both.
As he finished his late dinner Trixie came back to his table and brought the bill. Trixie asked, “What is your name sweetheart?”
“Tuck,” be answered, “I like to go by Tuck.”
“I like Tuck, it’s sexy, hell it’s manly,” Trixie said in a very sexy flirty tone.
“I get off work in just a few minutes Tuck, thought maybe you’d like to have a drink and a laugh or two, how’s about it big guy?” she asked.
“I’d be delighted,” answered Tuck.
Tuck felt a little tinge of guilt but then thought to himself, “Why not? Whether or not it was my choice I am totally free now.”
Trixie said, “There is a bar next door and my shift ends right now. Give me just a few minutes and you can walk me over.”
“Sure thing,” answered Tuck.
In five minutes Trixie was back this time without her apron and Tuck escorted her next door to the small bar. It was nearly empty and they both sat at the bar and ordered drinks. Trixie had a Cosmopolitan and and Tuck had a straight bourbon on ice.
They sat and talked for several minutes. The conversation between the two came so easily with no awkward pauses. They both felt so at ease with each other and soon Tuck had Trixie laughing at his goofy jokes and wise cracks. And somehow Tuck was not at all surprised when Trixie asked, “We could go to my place, but your room is much closer.”
Tuck hesitated just slightly before he answered, “My room, uh...