Todd called me up out of the blue to ask if I would stand at his wedding. Open bar? I asked. Bachelor party? Reception? Good looking tuxedo? Open bar? Sure, I'll show up. Open bar, right?
It's my third standing thus far; I thought about compiling some kind of Groomsman Resume, only I'm somewhat reluctant. It doesn't look good:
1993: My cousin's wedding. Face broke out. Hid in the bathroom all afternoon, too embarassed to come out and dance with her friends. Grey tuxedo made me look like a parking lot attendee. Lost the room key. Brother sarcastic.
1997: Stood at Dale's wedding. Late to ceremony. Got lost on the way to the reception. Hated the bride. Sunday night, and no open bar.
2002: Dale's second wedding. On time, but hung over. Holes in socks. Ate two pounds of deep fried calamari; lousy stomach ache.
2003: Brother's wedding. Stood and made a kickass toast. Too pale compared to everyone else. Open bar. Good food. Good ceremony.
2005: Todd's wedding. Will get lost. Will rip tuxedo. Will forget to buy a gift. Will enjoy open bar. Will make a speech whether or not anyone wants to hear it.
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