Ok, there’s no easy way of doing this. Eventually, this was a bridge that we all needed to cross, so I figured we might as well just do it now. When we all get married in the upcoming decade, how the hell do we decide who gets to be the best man, who gets to be the groomsmen, and who gets relegated to a lowly usher? Am I wrong, or is this going to be a sneaky huge issue?
Obviously there are some no-brainers that we shouldn’t get all hot-and-bothered about. For example, Jesse, Seth and Dave will probably do some Rachel-Monica-Phoebe deal where they rotate being each other’s best man. Calvin, Sam and Tom will probably do this too. Not a big deal. You guys have been friends since you were 5. Your families have little get-togethers and shit simply to reinforce this tight bond you have formed over the years. One love. We get it.
But what in the world am I supposed to do? Keep in mind, until a few months ago I didn’t even know that apparently we call ourselves LGO. That stands for Los Gangadores Something. I literally have no idea what the “O” stands for. Maybe “organization,” but not actually. Let’s just say I wouldn’t bet the house on it. Well, honestly, I can’t even bet anything at all because I spend all my disposable income playing Rihanna’s “What’s My Name” on the Mary Ann’s jukebox. $35 in February to be exact. Credit card bill don’t lie.
Anyway, it’s difficult enough for me when you guys are all like, “Silver team was the shiiiiiiiiit.” I went to Bigelow, guys. We didn’t have colors. I was in Cluster D with Susan. Whoop-dee-frickin’-doo. And what if nobody asks me to be their best man? Because that’s ultimately the biggest concern here. Nobody wants to be that guy. Especially me. I mean, I can tolerate a lot of shit. The other day I moved my sister’s underwear from the washer to the dryer without even squealing. But if nobody picks me as their best man, I’m going to flipping lose it.
Honestly, should we all just go ahead and announce who the front runners are right now? Everyone make a power rankings and update it every 6 months or so? Because that could get awkward. Probably not as awkward as last week when I was at the Bruins game with my dad and they showed the two of us on the JumboTron together. I don’t think anything will ever top that. Like, what do you possibly do in that situation? Wave? Smile? Stand up and ferociously start pointing to the Bruins logo on your shirt? My dad completely froze. I was probably worse, though. I double-pumped a wave. Started to raise my hand to wave to the crowd, then started to pull back because I thought it would make me look like a 15-year old girl, then realized I had already committed and re-raised my arm and gave a quick salute. Just brutal. I always thought that nothing could ever be worse than watching a movie with your parents when there’s a sex scene involved. Because that level of awkwardness has withstood the test of time, for sure. But when you see your face on that 50-ft screen, with 18,000 people looking deep into your soul, shit gets real. I’m not even kidding when I say the relationship I have with my father will never be the same.
Another proposal: when you guys finally do make a decision, you have to hold a press conference to announce your intentions. Put it up on YouTube or something. Hands-down, my biggest regret from high school was not inviting the local and national media to help me publicize my college decision. That would have killed. I just picture myself set up at a table on Main Street with 14 microphones in front of me. I got the BC hat, the Wake Forest hat, and the Emory hat all laying in front of me. I reach for the Emory hat. A collective “Ohhhhhhhhh” from the audience. But then at the last second I grab the Wake hat. “AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” as the crowd goes wild. Then Trey Wingo comes in and asks me with a straight face, “Why Wake Forest, Mike? What was the difference for you? Did the decisions of Mitch and Brady have an impact on your decision?” Oh man, by far my biggest regret. Hands-down.
Actually screw it. I’ll probably just choose my brother or one of my BC bros and avoid this all together.
P.S. When I think about it, choosing a best man and groomsmen and ushers takes me back to the Bar Mitzvah days. Remember how there was that candle ceremony and for some reason everyone felt the need to distinguish their “close” friends from all their other friends? First the Bar/Bat Mitzvah person would call up all their “new/less important” friends from middle school, and a relatively large crowd of 30 people or so would huddle around the cake and the light the candle. But immediately afterwards (we’re probably down to 4 or 5 candles left in total, for those keeping score at home), the Bar/Bat Mitzvah person would invite up a special group of like 8 close friends to come up and light another candle. At this point, every single kid has one thing on their mind: Who actually gets to light the candle? Who is the BEST of the best friends? There is a collective murmur from the crowd, probably people making bets - “3-2 odds on Hayley. 6-1 on Kelsey. 12-1 they hold it together and light it at the same time. Who ya got?” Shit was ridiculous.
