The Not-So-Blushing Bride

I never, not once, ever thought that it would actually happen.

Until it did.

And now I can’t get it out of my mind.

I’m a chauffeur, and the majority of my work is driving wedding cars. You know, taking the bride and her wedding party to church. Then taking the newlyweds to their wedding reception and sometimes, later, onto the airport or a hotel.

So you can hardly blame me for having weddings on the brain. As a bloke, though, it’s not the wedding itself that I think about. I don’t get all gooey and gushy over the church, the dress, the rings, the flowers, the cake. That would be weird.

It’s the bride that occupies my thoughts. Now, before you think I’m some kind of creepy pervert, let me explain. It’s not like that. I don’t paw at the brides that ride in my car, flirt, or make inappropriate comments. In fact, I don’t do anything that would make them uncomfortable. I am the epitome of professionalism and respectability at all times.

Until they get out of the car and go on their way, that is. It’s the times that I’m left to my own devices that my mind starts to wander down its naughty path. And, given that I’m generally employed for entire days with long periods of time where I do nothing but sit around, you can hardly blame me for doing something to occupy my time.

So I entertain myself by sitting in the car....