All we had to eat that night was strawberries and champange. We stopped for tacos before we got to the hotel.
I drank beer and champagne like a demon at the reception, on an empty stomach, and I couldn't even get a buzz. At all. That's how keyed up I was, which I didn't fully realize at the time. I just couldn't understand why I couldn't get drunk.
I found out later my wife had the same predicament (I hardly remember seeing her at all at the reception.) They had a real nice spread there, standing rib roast and all sorts of vegetables set up in a buffet line. I think some of the people on her side were shoving the food into purses and bags and stuff, to take home, because the food disappeared quick. I never got any, neither did my wife.
Luckily, one of her aunts had saved a few slices of roast and a bunch of soggy vegetables in a styrofoam clamshell for us. First thing we did when we got to the hotel room was sit on top of the bed and eat everything in the clamshell. It was 2 A.M., and while we each had two nights of alcohol in us, neither she nor I had eaten in 30 hours.