A WEDDING IN DR 2025 Pt. 1

Vacation!

A perfect way to kick off the new year.

I got an invitation from my friend to leave cold NY in mid-January and head to the warm, tropical Dominican Republic for a week. And it wasn’t just any old vacation — her dad was getting married. Vacation and celebrating love? 2 things that excite me.

JANUARY 17th

“Girl you didn't see me calling you 50 times.”

I know Bree was low-key panicking — that’s what she said when I finally picked up her call. I think I’m addicted to being late or something. I really thought I had a lot of time left, but between finishing packing and taking a shower, the time flew by.

4:45am.

There’s no actual way she’ll be ready by 5am. I mean ..our flight wasn’t until 9am. Why did we need to leave so early?

One thing I quickly learned about Bree: she does not play when it comes to missing flights. She’s usually late like me, but not today—5am sharp, she was already in that Uber, ready to leave for the airport.

After panicking myself, I rushed and somehow made it into the Uber too. Thank God.

Who would've thought the airport would be packed at 6am? Clearly, I missed the memo.

Check-in was a drag — and might I add… ghetto. We waited on line for two hours because the machines weren’t working. It was as if the agents were purposely trying to piss us off. They were rude to everyone and, even worse? Moving like sloths.

Then TSA took another hour.

And that’s when it clicked — this is why Bree wanted to leave so early.

We made it, though! With a whole hour left to spare.

The stress is over… or so we thought.

While boarding the plane, we hear a scream down the tunnel.

“Briana *******!” What now?

The flight attendant pulled her aside, explaining that the flight was overbooked and since she was the last person to check in, only one of us would be getting on that plane. The other? has to take the next flight. That was unless the passenger did not make it to the gate in the next 5 mins.

Are they nuts? Who’s taking this plane by themselves?

Don’t tell anyone, but I was shitting bricks.

“That or you can catch the next flight together”

God knows when that would be. Yea, sorry..we can’t do that either.

We were getting on that plane together —and we were getting on that plane NOW. Bree was not going to miss her dad’s wedding.

I thought the whole point of reserving your spot ahead of time was to prevent things like this.
This was ghetto, indeed.

After the longest 5 minutes of my life, this mystery passenger never showed up. They finally came to their senses and allowed us both on, closing the gate behind them. Bree and I were the last ones to board that plane.

Okay. Now the stress is over.

Haha, that was a good one.

Her dad was waiting for us outside the airport. More setbacks transpired when we touched down in DR, but it’s okay... just another obstacle we overcame.

We were tired, hungry, and hot! When those doors slid open, the heat slapped us in the face — jackets immediately came off.

From NY’s cold doodoo air to this. I was in paradise.

Her dad jumped out of the car to embrace his daughter and grab our bags.

“Hey, you.”

What I hadn’t mentioned was that Bree and I had only been friends for less than a year. I met them (her and her father) at our gym, and Bree and I instantly clicked. We had a lot in common — it’s actually kind of creepy how alike we are. But the friendship was still fresh.

So this trip? It was something off a whim. I didn’t know what to expect.

Truth is... I was nervous and excited at the same time.

But I’ll say this — it was off to a good start.

We drove around, getting a feel for the culture in her family’s country.

The roads, the billboards, the little corner stores with open windows and loud music spilling out — it was familiar but all new to me. I’d been to the DR once before, but that was as a kid. This time? Everything hit different. Her dad was pointing things out, telling stories, giving us the unofficial tour. I could tell he was proud — like he wanted us to see his DR, not just the tourist version.

First stop — Square One.

He brought us to what he called the best restaurant in Santiago — and get this — it was inside a gas station.

In NY, a food market inside a gas station means there's a convenience store — and maybe a deli, if you're lucky. Grab you some snacks, a hot dog, maybe a sandwich, and hope you don’t find a roach on it.

This was not that.

From the outside, Square One looked small. But when those doors opened?
It was NY all over again — but in a good way.

We walked into a space made to look like a subway train, with waiting seats and everything. Imagine that. We left New York to escape the cold... just to end up back there again.

The waitresses spoke Spanish, and I couldn’t understand a lick of what they were saying. Bree caught a few things, but her dad did most of the talking. This would continue to be our dynamic during the trip, by the way.

As we made our way to our table, the restaurant that looked small on the outside just kept opening up. It was giving luxury meets NY train station.

Her dad had to run errands, so we were left to fend for ourselves. With Bree speaking little Spanish and me contributing absolutely nada, I’d say we did pretty good. We ordered brunch — light fluffy eggs, flavorful juicy sausages and golden brown, crispy potato wedges on the side. Cant forget the French toast drizzled with maple syrup. Delicioso. The food was fresh and love.

Another gem: our entire meal cost us twenty-something dollars! In NY, that would've easily been double.

This wouldn’t be the last time we’d get a culture revelation.

The rest of January 17th consisted of us getting acquainted with his soon-to-be wife, going to the nail salon, and finally… making our way to the mini mansion.

Yes. Mansion.

It was just a few hours before the big day, and tonight they were throwing the bride-to-be a bachelorette party. The girls were partying, but Bree and I? Heading to bed. They had prepared a two-bed room for us — which sounded lovely because we were beat.

But when we arrived, that plan changed.

Somehow, we went from exhausted to suddenly full of energy. It was a miracle!

Couldn’t tell you if it was the loud music that kept us up for as long as we did… or the fact that we were in a mini mansion.

One word — stunning.

That’s when it hits you: you’re really somewhere else.