Troy Kelly

Well, what a night.
We went to the regatta for my godmothers sons 21st. But we had problems even before we got there.
I came home from work and Brett went to the gym. The problem was that when i got home i didn’t open the windows. My thought process here was that we were about to leave anyway and there was a pretty severe storm about to hit.
This however was wrong. It seems that brett wanted the windows opened, and no ammount of apologising on my part could stop him from being really pissed over it.
We eventually left straight after i made another mistake – asking him to do hid laces up in the waiting cab.
Then we got there.
I tried calling my mother, it rang then rejected me. I called again, rejected again, and again. So I tried my father, no answer.
So we asked one of the door boys, he didn’t know anything was on, went to the front door, asked that door boy, he didn’t know he asked the security guard, he checked on his radio. No, nothing – just a farewell upstairs.
So I called my mother again, who answered this time, after I told her what the staff had said she let fly with a string of french (the vulgar kind) and then said she would call Sandra.
After all this, and Brett already pissed of at me, it became too much for him, so he went home in a cab. This upset ne a great deal, and just as I was dealing with that – my parents turn up.
A quick argument out front, and then we go in. As we head in I got an apology from the security guard for telling me the wrong thing, as there was indeed a 21st in a funtion room upstairs.
We got upstairs, did the hugs and kisses, then we stood there. This is really my fault I should point out, as by this stage I was feeling none too social.
My sister eventually turned up two and a half hours late, then we did speaches. I got a mention as the only person turned away and that was that.
Finally the night looked like it was going to be ok. My mother and sister, Sandy (my godmother) and I were sitting in a quiet corner talking. But no, the world was not quite done fucking with me.
A stocky security guard waddled over and informed us that my sister, of age 22, would have to leave as she had no ID and it was now past 10. My godmother who had just started relaxing didn’t deserve to have to deal with it, so I started to. At this point my mother decided to start yelling at me telling me not to get involved and grabbing at my arms. The security guard then decided that he didn’t have to deal with me, and refused to continue the conversation.
My godmother then stepped in and walked away with him. I sat down and tried to calm down, but couldn’t. I was about to snap so I stood up, said goodnight and left.