Mokies and Marriage

What I have not told you guys is that I picked a pink mokie called Cinderella as a joke. Of course no one got the joke because they don't know me but I enjoyed it anyway. This comes into play later. So, eight of us are running around in two mokies, I am driving one ( other side! other side!) and Stephen is driving the other. We have spent the day going to several beaches, drinking Smirnoffs, snorkeling and having lunch. Now these people don't eat sandwhiches for lunch. They are French. They cook pasta and eat cheese for lunch. We had brie cheese, chicken and pasta for lunch. Yum. After lunch they decide to go to a pier and fish for dinner, I go along as I can't talk to any of them and therefore have no voice in the decision. ( Believe it or not I am enjoying not voicing my opinion.) So we mokie on down to the pier and are hanging out. Antony has catches three big fish and is working on his fourth. It is a beautiful spot, so beautiful in fact that a wedding party pulls up, piles out, and begins to assemble for the traditional wedding pictures. That's when they spot the mokie. My mokie. The pink mokie. They are wearing pink. They ask if they can borrow the mokie. Of course we all get a charge out of it. Here is a decked out wedding party asking to borrow something of ours. They climb in the mokie, take their pictures, thank us and begin to leave. Then one of our guys claims we should all have a picture together. The marriage of mokies, gypsies and wedding parties. Funny!