I was planning on doing some tech support work on the side this weekend, but I got cancelled on…so I am going to sit here in this horrible rainstorm and type up a little about Tootie and her wedding.

When we got there, Tootie was obviously VERY pregnant. Her dad won’t have anything to do with her since she left home…he says she robbed him blind and she doesn’t say anything in her defense. Since Mrs. Gimp raised Tootie from when she was a baby until about four, she has a bond with her…so it was looked over that she came over during the duration of our stay, but her dad threatened her about taking things and her shackup had to sit outside on the curb, which he dutifully did for hours at a time.

While Mrs. Gimp and Tootie talked, they tried to find a point they could use as a defining moment in Tootie’s downfall from a young teenage girl to a young teenage mom twice over. During the talks, Tootie came forward and said she felt she needed to get married, because (in her own words) in spite of everything she had done she still had a conscience that bothered her when she thought about just living with curbthief. So we called him in, and I had never seen him without his cap on…dude looks like the Mexican version of Bert from Bert n Ernie, so I will call him Beto from now on. Beto came in and we asked him how he felt about things, and he looked at the floor for a while and then finally began to talk. She’s 16, he’s 20, and he said he felt bad about how they were living too. He looked up and asked what he should do, and we asked him how he felt about getting married, which he said he was willing and actually happy to do. So, in front of us, Bert proposed to Tootie. She started crying and of course said yes. So we went, had blood drawn, and got the funds together to help them out with their marriage costs.

That Wednesday morning, we got up early after only a couple of hours’ sleep and went to the downtown registro civil office, and they asked us some questions…when they found out her mom wasn’t to be present (yeah, her. The bitch.), they said she couldn’t get married. Then my brother in law storms past the receptionist into the judge’s office, with the receptionist behind him clucking and screaming about ‘who did he think he was’ etc. What happened next surprised even my jaded soul.

The judge appeared, in blue jeans and reading glasses, and put the receptionist out. The judge and my bro in law talked for about ten minutes, then my bro in law comes out, shades still on, and whispers in my ear, ‘prepárate para una mordida’…get ready for a bite. It was just like the Clint Eastwood spaghetti western: For a few Dollars More, the wedding was in our grasp sans bitches’ signature. So we coughed up his vacation money, and they got married.

We spent the afternoon swilling Tecate and grilling chicken, and Beto came into the house without my bro in law kicking him in the teeth. It was obvious he doesn’t trust them though, because he never pried his eyesight off them the entire time they were celebrating.

Here’s a picture of Beto and Tootie along with Gimp Jr. and Gimp’s nephew buying popscicles from, who else? Nevería y Productos Helados ‘Beto’ :-)