I have been tasked with the unfortunate job of chauffeuring one of my best friends into the unknown oblivion that is commonly referred to as “The Institution of Marriage“.
The Best Man? More Like The Better Man!
As his best friend, who’s known him 5 times longer than his bride to be, I find it hard to deny my urges to save him from himself. Yet, after numerous attempts, warnings and threats, he’s stated to me that he’s determined to go down this moronic path, with or without my help.
I’ve sacrificed my time, my dignity and my very soul in order to be there for him. But most importantly, I’ve sacrificed the only thing on this Earth I hold truly dear……… And that’s my sweet cash.
Monetary $acrifices I’ve been forced to make because this louse found Love:
1. Engagement Party– Unbeknownst to me, with an engagement party comes an engagement present. An engagement present? Are you fucking kidding me? I gotta dish these two out a gift just for planning to get married? Where is the line? When’s the last time you gave your buddy a present just because he or she met someone? NEVER that’s when. But tradition says “when you get married you get a present every time you take a shit”. If that’s the case then I’m gonna have an engagement party every year. It’ll be like a second Christmas, I’ll have one every June 25th! Once my friends forked over the goods, I’d let a few months go by and call off the matrimony. Meanwhile I’d be sitting on a mountain of candy, booze and toys!
2. Bachelor Party – Kick ass! Strippers, hotel, hooch, gambling (in our case) and lots of laughs. As much fun as it was it still cost me close to 500 bucks, and that was just my share (which was a lion’s since I’m the Best Man In the Land). This motherfucker hasn’t even gotten a marriage license yet and it’s already cost me $650 smackeroos.
3. Tuxedo Fitting/Tuxedo Rental – $185 bucks people. That’s roughly two hundred dollars to simply put on a suit that God knows how many other people have gone commando in. Let’s break it down, from the minute I put that tuxedo on, roughly 11:00 AM, til the minute I take that tuxedo off (hopefully to bang away on a hottie bridesmaid) around 1:00 or 2:00 AM, it’s two bills. That’s maybe 13 hours, at 200 dollars that’s about 15 bones an hour! Would you pay 15 dollars an hour to wear a Halloween costume? I don’t fucking think so.
4. Rehearsal Dinner – Surprisingly this is basically the only occasion associated with the fucking wedding that’s not going to cost me shit but gas money. BUT with the gas prices soaring through the roof there’s a good chance I’m going to have to throw down 40 dollars just to fill up my old man’s gas guzzler.
5. Wedding Day – Wedding present. Need I say more? I’m a man, and a true friend. And a true friend doesn’t buy shit off the registry, he goes full throttle and he gives his boy the only thing he knows his boy needs. And that’s cold hard cash. Enough cash for Julia Roberts, circa Pretty Woman, to come back to your hotel room and suck your balls up and down for an entire evening. Anything less would be an insult to the rank of Detective Lieutenant Best Friend in the Universe.
And finally….
6. The Speech – As the Best Man I’ve got to stand before the entire crowd and deliver a concise speech that details the chronicling of our entire friendship. I’ve got three minutes to verbally traverse 15 years of time WITHOUT cursing OR bringing up any disgusting sexual acts. Anyone who knows me can tell you that I curse as often as a bird chirps. It’s in my DNA, me and swearing are like old people and apple sauce, we GET ALONG.
**Tonight I leave my beloved New York City to head back home and get this fiasco under way. I’ve made it halfway through the list and by this time tomorrow I’ll be on my way to completing #4. By this time next week all this stinking mess will be over. My buddy will be on a cruise ship heading for the Caribbean and I’ll be back at my shitty job paying off this bastard’s happiness for the next 6 months.
With my luck he’ll be dead by the time I get married and he’ll never know the pain I went through.
– Mike James
(The Bestest Man In The Motherfucking Land)
And This Is My America? 
