I've been to countless weddings over the past seven years. In fact, Jerks of the Week spawned because a girl I wanted to take to my college roommate's wedding back in 2009 backed out on me because she had to go to a barbeque instead. If that sounds pathetic to you, then you clearly are not a fat man like me. Only fat men like me know the true value that barbeques have to offer.
Despite attending lots of weddings, I've never actually been a part of a wedding party. I've been told a couple of times that I was on the cusp of clinching entry to a wedding party, but I couldn't quite get there. I've told them that it's OK that I didn't make it into the wedding party. I would then cry myself to sleep that night, and for several nights to come. And by several, I mean like 100.
When my best friend told me that he got engaged, I knew that would change. I'd be in the wedding party for sure. I made all the appropriate plans. I lost some weight. I learned how to tie a tie (sort of). I also prepared a speech just in case. I knew I wasn't going to the best man because my best friend has a brother he's close with, but I was going to be the best groomsman ever for sure.
"Am I going to be your best man?" my BFF asked when he learned that I, too, was engaged.
"Yup!" I replied, enthusiastically. "I assume I'll be a groomsman?"
"Umm... no..." he answered.
No? No!?!?! So all of that was for nothing? Losing weight, learning to tie a tie, preparing a speech, all flushed down the drain because my BFF of 29 years didn't want to include me in his wedding party?
Now, before you label me as the most pathetic person of all time, all the bride wanted was a maid of honor and a best man for the wedding party. From what I understand, she had a difficult decision to make for bridesmaids, so she opted to have none outside of the maid of honor, and so all my BFF would have is a best man. At least that's what they told me to make me feel better about myself. I thought about this when I cried myself to sleep for the next hundred nights.
My speech, by the way, was going to discuss how we became best friends in the first place. We lived next door to each other when we were kids. When we were both 5 years old - he's exactly 20 days younger than I am - our parents set us up on this play date where we and this other kid from the neighborhood, Joey, played freeze tag in my BFF's cul-de-sac. I distinctly remember tagging my BFF, which meant that he had to be frozen. Seconds later, he began running again, even though I clearly froze him!
Me: What are you doing!? You're frozen!
BFF: Nope! I used hot chocolate on myself!
Me: You're selfish!
At 5, I don't think I even knew what the word "selfish" meant, but I heard it said before, and it seemed appropriate at the time. I thought this guy was selfish for sure, though we and Joey continued to hang out, as we always went over to Joey's house after school in first grade to play Super Mario Bros. 2 and the Legend of Zelda. You know, great video games, unlike the realistic bulls***t people play now.
Joey moved away soon after, but my BFF and I continued to hang out. However, in second grade, there was this other guy I was best friends with. He and my BFF hated each other, and they demanded that I not hang out with the other party. It was a difficult dilemma. On one hand, my BFF had a Sega Genesis. On the other hand, this other guy's parents always ordered pizza whenever we had sleepovers at his house. It was quite the pickle! Mmm... pickles...
Caught in the middle, I went back and forth between these two guys. It was quite the love triangle! One day, when I was hanging out with the other guy, my BFF and one of his goons cornered me in the schoolyard. The goon put me in a headlock, and my BFF kicked me in the balls. Believe me, it hurt! I still feel the pain today, and it's been 27 years!
Anyway, that evening, my BFF called my house. I was shocked, since I thought we weren't going to be friends anymore.
"I'm sorry I kicked you in the nuts," he said. "My mom said that I may have caused you permanent damage, and I didn't want to do that."
That's when I knew that I would have to choose this guy as my BFF. Calling to apologize was a clear indicator that this dude was not selfish, as I previously accused him of being.
Anyway, there's more to this story, as Valentine's Day cards were involved, but that's for another time. And if you're wondering what happened to the other guy, us three actually became great friends in high school, but he and my BFF got into a fistfight in Florida over some girl. The other guy then moved away to the cold, barren wasteland known as North Jersey, which is basically like the Siberia of the United States. I'm not sure they even have the Internet or wi-fi up there, so I barely hear from him.
I was going to use that story in my speech, but that never happened. Perhaps that's for the best, since I couldn't drink very much, as I had a 19-hour workday because of football Sunday the following day. I did have fun though, and I did manage to get enough material for a Jerks of the Week entry, so I'd say it was a successful night for all parties.
The wedding venue itself was great. My fiancee agreed.
"Wow, this is place is beautiful!" she said, as we walked into the building. "And what great weather for a wedding!"
Indeed. It was 70 degrees the entire day, which was awesome for the middle of November. See, these are the perks of global warming. Some idiots say global warming is horrible, but it sounds great to me. Who wouldn't want a warmer planet? SJW losers, that's who.
It was about a 5-minute walk from where we parked, which ordinarily wouldn't have been an issue if it weren't for my fiancee's footwear. I can't exactly remember what she had on, as shoe lingo completely mystifies me, but I'm pretty sure she said they were 40-inch stilettos. Thus, she didn't want to walk back with me to the car when we forgot the wedding gift.
Upon my return, they began seating for the ceremony, which lasted about 40 minutes. The timing for this is important, because after it was over, we grabbed a couple of beers and my fiancee asked if we could go back to the car because she forgot her medicine. We walked toward the exit, when this monstrosity of a woman stopped us.
"NO CAN BRING DRINK OUTSIDE," she said, sounding like Jabba the Hut. What? Why the f*** not? We were just going to the parking lot. It's not like we were leaving the property, or anything. See, this is just one of the many rules and regulations keeping the man down. Holding a beer while walking to a car in the parking lot doesn't do anyone any harm, so why stress about it? Why act like such f***ing a**holes?
I gave the obese woman a dirty look and placed the beer down. We opened the door, and WHOOSH! We were met with a cold blast of air. The temperature had somehow dropped 40 degrees in as many minutes. It was now 30 degrees out somehow!
My fiancee went back to the car with me this time because she knew where the meds were. We walked back, and after retrieving my beer, we went to the cocktail hour place, where they had all sorts of amazing food. I piled tons of food onto my plate, including pizza, potato skins, buffalo chicken, mini cheesesteaks, mashed potatoes, stuffed shells, and much more.
I put my plate down and told my fiancee I was going to get a second plate.
Fiancee: Walt, why don't you finish this plate before getting another one?
Me: WHAT!? ARE YOU CRAZY!? THE FOOD COULD RUN OUT, AND THEN WHAT WOULD I DO!!?!??!
I found a table with all sorts of meats and cheeses. I piled on 10 slices of this delicious-looking cheese and then twice as many pieces of salami. I walked to the next station and saw my BFF, who immediately stared at my plate.
"Jesus, Walt, do you have enough salami?" he asked.
I guess he remembered whom he was talking to because he suddenly looked like he understood. I then returned to my fiancee and began scarfing down the food.
Fiancee: Walt, you know we also have entrees, right?
Me: PIZZA POTATO SKINS BUFFALO CHICKEN MINI CHEESESTEAK SALAMI CHEESE NOM NOM NOM NOM!!!
All of the food was delicious, but I have to say that the slices of cheese were my favorite. I don't know what sort of cheese it was, but it was amazing. I planned on going back for more when my fiancee grabbed my arm. She looked panicked.
"My car keys!" she gasped. "They're not here!"
Crap. My mind raced about where they could be, and I realized that it was possible that she locked them in the trunk when she retrieved her meds. It was also possible, however, that she dropped them on the way to the car because she took off her stilettos.
We went back to the entrance, where the monstrous troglodyte forced me to leave my beer once again. I opened the door, and WHOOSH, SPLAT!!! Not only was the air colder this time, but frozen rain was coming down! So much for global warming. I knew it was fiction this entire time.
I told my fiancee to stay behind, and I ventured into freezing rain. I shielded my face while looking down on the ground for the keys, hoping desperately to find them.
And there they were! Sure enough, she had dropped her keys when taking off the 40-inch stilettos.
I breathed a sigh of relief, as we went back downstairs. I couldn't wait for more cheese!
Unfortunately, I was stopped by some guy I met just once. He's a close friend of my BFF's, but my only encounter with him was when he showed up to one of my parties completely high. I never had a real conversation with him as a result until now, but we talked for a bit. That was fine and all - except when I returned to the meat-and-cheese station, I saw some guy I knew from grade school piling the cheese on his plate. And there was only one remaining!
"Hey Jeff!" I shouted, distracting him. He smiled and turned around, and I used this opportunity to dash by him and grab the remaining piece of cheese. He didn't seem too pleased about that, but he had like six slices on his plate, so I didn't feel too bad.
Sadly, they didn't bring out more cheese, which was very upsetting. In fact, cocktail hour was almost over, and it was soon time to be seated for the official commencement of the reception. Three noteworthy things happened:
1. If you've never been at a Jewish wedding, one of the traditions is to put the bride and groom in chairs, and then lots of people pick up chairs to lift them into the air. Some guy asked me to grab hold of one of the chairs, and I said no. I didn't feel confident enough that I'd be able to hold on to the chair, though the people who actually did this weren't any better. My BFF nearly fell off the chair, as he had to contort his body so that wouldn't happen. He looked fearful for his life, and he later confirmed this to me.
"I almost s**t my pants," he said. "I thought I was going to die."
2. My fiancee and I looked at a wedding venue that morning, which required lots of walking around. I have a bad back, and it was acting up as a consequence. Thus, I was able to get out of dancing for the most part, though I still had to dance for three songs.
I absolutely hate dancing. I've delved into this before, but I think it's torture. It requires too much geometry and physics, and I just don't want to think about all that when I'm trying to have a good time. I'd honestly sit in a dentist's chair than dance. I'm not joking.
One of the songs was a line dance. The one that goes, "move to the left ... move to the right ... reverse, reverse ... cha cha now y'all."
I asked my fiancee to sit this one out, but she didn't let me. Thus, I had to learn this abomination, and let me tell you, it's f***ing impossible. I never turned the right way, and I crashed into people on multiple occasions. I also didn't know what the f*** "cha cha now y'all" meant. What the f*** do you do when he says that? How the hell do you cha cha? What the f*** is cha cha!?
3. Another horrifying moment on the dance floor was when the DJ asked everyone to encircle the bride and groom and join hands. I think this is another Jewish tradition, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I grabbed my fiancee's hand. I looked to the right of me, and there was some guy who was sweating profusely. We looked at each other and apparently thought the same exact thing: That it was kind of, well, not heterosexual to grab another man's hand. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
At any rate, the evening soon ended. I searched for my BFF, but he was apparently tending to a sick family member. I told his parents and brother to tell him that I said goodbye, and my fiancee and I walked back to the car. The freezing rain subsided, but it was still cold as balls out.
"Well, that was fun," my fiancee said after cranking up the heat.
I agreed. It was a fun night. Except when that guy stole my cheese. I will never forget that act of selfishness as long as I live.