Scary.
For my friend Amy, all of these paranoias will be by the wayside. The is happy. She is beyond worry of black cats, broken mirrors and all that other schlock which permeates our nightmares.
Friday the 13th is the Aimless One's 27th birthday. She gets to join a not-so-elite group who are at this milestone already. This list includes myself and her boyfriend - one of my best friends - Randy.
Except I can no longer use the phrase "boyfriend" when talking about the two of them. The news came to me via my telephone recording machine last week that Randy and Amy are advancing their relationship beyond being merely "boyfriend" and "girlfriend."
They are getting married.
Next November.
And they asked me to be the best man.
Scary.
I am an untested rookie. New to the game. Prone to rookie mistakes, I am sure.
But already I'm excited. Cautious, but excited. I k now what the worst man is supposed to do - show up drunk, wearing one of those tacky tuxedo T-shirts, carrying plastic flowers. He objects to the wedding, shouting from the rafters like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate.
Being best man won't be as easy.
I've been told to write HELP ME! in huge black letters on the bottom of the groom's shoes, or tape a sign with the same plea on the back of his jacket. But that really doesn't seem like something the best man should do. Maybe a dunk in a tuxedo T-shirt, not the best man.
I have, however, been at wedding ceremonies where the best man goaded the rest of the bridal party to hood up cardboard "Rate the Kiss" cards. Another best man, when reciting "The Lord's Prayer," bobbed his head to the tune of Prince's "Controversy," where His Royal Badness puts the prayer to a funky beat.
I probably won't be doing any of this. I'll be too busy with two items: (1) the bachelor party, and (2) my toast at the reception.
Randy would probably feel at home playing drums for the Canadian rock band Rush during his bachelor party. Or during any other party. Unfortunately, I doubt I can get the group to "drop by" for a couple of hours, so that's probably out of the question.
(Of course, if they actually show up, we've gotten ourselves a pretty decent band for the reception. But that's another story altogether.)
So we probably have to do something different. Something in good taste. Maybe a Red Wings game.
This is important. It merges me into the funniest reception toast I've ever heard in my life.
According to the best man, the groom in question was at a Wings game with some friends, depressed about his social life. Or maybe about the way the Wings were playing. Whatever.
The best man "just happened" to have a copy of 101 Pick-Up Lines That Work with him, and loaned it to the groom ... who turned around, tried one out, and now was getting married.
So while 13 might be an unlucky number for many people, the 13th is looking like a wonderful day for Amy. It's also a good way to prepare for the wedding, which is slated for Saturday, November 14, 1992.
The day after another Friday the 13th. Scary.
This article originally appeared in the Ogemaw County Herald.
