Full of Schmidt
Many years ago, when I was a young school teacher living in Waelder, Texas, my college buddy, Clay Hanks, got married in Minnesota. I flew up there for the wedding and stayed at his then fiance’s family dairy farm. They had a beautiful modern home, but there wasn’t enough room for Clay, his brother, a buddy that was with us, and me to stay there. Instead, we were housed in a huge class A motorhome parked to the side of the house. We were the lucky ones. Clay’s mom, dad, and aunt had to stay in a hotel which I most likely couldn't have afforded.
Staying in the RV was very comfortable. Of course, most of the time we were there, we were a bit inebriated from drinking "strong" Schmidt beer. It had a higher alcohol content than Texas beer and sleeping anywhere after drinking it all day would have been comfortable.
I’m not sure how long we stayed in Minnesota for the wedding. I’m going to guess four nights, but it is a bit of a blur thanks to the beer. We spent our time going between three places, depending on the event. I know that one place was Randolph, where the dairy farm was located. There was a town called Cannon Falls, where I think the actual wedding took place. Finally, there was Northfield, where I know the third reception was held. I remember they gave us wooden drink tokens that said, "Jesse James slipped here".
I mentioned that there were three receptions. One was at the church. It was very nice. The second was at the family farm. That is the one I want to talk about.
At the farm, it was sunny and warm. not hot like Texas. It was probably in the mid 70’s. Even though I was an invited guest and had met all of Clay’s family and his new bride, Cheryl’s, immediate family, I felt a little out of place. I made the rounds talking to everyone, but really wasn’t comfortable unless I was with Clay’s brother Chet. He was a lot younger than I, but we became friends on the trip. The other friend, whose name I can’t even remember, was too busy sniffing around any girl with a pulse. He took several trips behind the barn that day, if you know what I mean.
At some point during the day, I needed something from the RV. I don’t know what. I was a smoker back then. It could have been a fresh pack of cigarettes. I usually smoked about a half a pack a day. But, when I was nervous or in uncomfortable social situations, I could easily go through a pack in just a few hours. Whatever it was, I wanted it, and had to go to the RV to get it.
I opened the door to the motorhome, climbed up into it, and started to walk to the back where I had been sleeping. Suddenly, a strange lady asked, "Can I help you with something?" As soon as she asked her question, an angry man asked, "Who are you?" I politely introduced myself as Clay’s friend from Texas. The angry man wasn’t appeased. He loudly asked, "Why are you here?" I was a little baffled by his attitude and answered with, "I’ve been sleeping in here with the other guys. There wasn’t room for us in the house."
The man just stared at me like I was some kind of idiot. His wife got a look of understanding and stepped between her husband and me. "You must have stayed in the other motorhome that’s parked behind us. We just got here today." My brain shut down for about ten seconds. When it rebooted, I started to process what had happened. Slightly (ha ha) inebriated, I had not noticed that an entirely different motorhome had been parked right in front of the one I was staying in. I had rudely barged into someone else’s camper uninvited. I apologized profusely and made an extremely speedy exit.
The rest of the day and later at the dance in Northfield, I saw that couple pointing at me and laughing. They were obviously telling everyone they knew about my snafu. It would have bothered me, but that girl-chasing friend of Clay’s introduced a group of us to an interesting drink called a Tequila Slammer. The rest of the night is just a cloudy haze. I don’t know where I slept that night! I vaguely remember something about running naked through a corn field. I would ask Clay, but it was his wedding night. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t with us.