Serendipity, Cabela's and the mystery of the woman in the wedding dress

Hank and I were on the road in Nevada yesterday when his phone rang. It was a reporter who wanted to interview him about lamb.

Hank was more than happy to talk, but to avoid the pesky distraction of driving, he decided to pull off the freeway. And where did he pull off? Boomtown Road, in Verdi.

The Cabela's exit!

Hank sat for a bit in a Chevron parking lot with the truck idling. I fidgeted for a few seconds, then determined that the interview would not be brief, so I would have to take action. I grabbed my purse, got Hank's attention, pointed at Cabela's and bailed before he could object.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

I wasn't planning to go "shopping"; I knew what I wanted, and I was going to be in and out in a heartbeat. I've been using a binocular harness for my camera on road trips with Hank, and I'd accidentally left it at home, so this was my opportunity to rectify that problem.

Once in the store, I asked directions and made a bee line to the optics department, and that's when I saw the weirdest damn thing I've ever seen in a hook-and-bullet store: a woman in a wedding dress, walking quickly toward the exit with a guy who was not in a tuxedo.

What the hell was that all about?

Option 1: Shotgun wedding. Boy meets girl. Boy knocks up girl. Girl's father insists they marry, so the couple heads to Reno. Girl dresses up, because her wedding is a moment she's always dreamed about. Boy doesn't dress up. Girl sees a lifetime of disappointment unfurling before her very eyes.

"The hell with it," she tells him. "The least you can do is buy me a shotgun so I can enjoy dove season before the baby is born."

Her new husband doesn't know a dove from a marmot, but realizing the need for peace in the marriage, he acquiesces.

And why not? In Nevada, you can get married without a waiting period, and you can buy guns without a waiting period - all in the same day!

Option 2: Speak now or forever hold your peace. Bride and groom are at the altar of the cheesy Reno wedding chapel. Just a few of their friends are in attendance. The rent-a-preacher reaches that fateful point in the ceremony: "If anyone objects to this marriage, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

The bride's childhood buddy stands. This was the kid she used to ride bikes with, shoot cap guns with, build forts with. Once they were old enough, their parents sent them out into the woods with a single-shot .410 to hunt squirrels. He was the perfect pal. And he objected to this marriage.

The bride looks at her groom - handsome, smart and successful. A software engineer who had already bought a nice house in Silicon Valley. A busy man who was already married to his job, so he didn't spend much time in that house.

Then she looks at her childhood buddy - flannel shirt half un-tucked, hair disheveled, two days' growth covering his face. He lived in a trailer in Truckee, across the state line. He worked only enough to pay his meager rent and buy milk, beer and ammunition.

She admired that.

The bride apologized to the groom and ran out of the chapel with her buddy. Outside, they locked in a long embrace, kissed passionately and stared into each other's eyes.

"Let's celebrate by going to Cabela's," he told her.

She smiled. "Let's go!"

Option 3: ... No, why don't you guys write this one? Give it your best shot, leave it in a comment below, and the most ridiculous, outrageous or hilarious story posted by 11:59 p.m. Pacific time Monday (July 11) wins an autographed copy of Hank's book, Hunt, Gather, Cook: Finding the Forgotten Feast.

My only direction is to keep it relatively short and PG. And do me a favor: If I don't know you personally, either leave your email address in the comment, or email me here with the email address where I can contact you if you're the winner.

Have fun!

© Holly A. Heyser 2011