I was in Boston last weekend for my friend Jordan’s wedding.  I had a fantastic time- I’ve never been to Boston proper before, and I was impressed by the architecture, the nightlife, and the quality of the women– it threw a wrench into my general theory that women get hotter as you move further south, I may need to revisit that one.

I had one story I wanted to share with all of you, this one moment that became the dominant theme of my weekend.  The rehearsal dinner was at Skipjack’s, a place that I would recommend to all of you the next time you’re in Boston.  I was sitting at a fun table with a great mix of people that I was loosely connected to, and at one point, my friend Dan ordered a round of kamikazes for all of us– including Jordan, who was also at the table.  We passed the drinks around, and when Jordan got his, he opted not to drink it, pleading that he didn’t want to be hung over on his wedding day.  This didn’t faze any of us, we simply applied the standard peer pressure that gets Jordan to do whatever dumb thing we want him to do.  Only this time, it was different.

The bride came over to the table, and I’m not sure if it was a coincidence or if she saw what was going on and intentionally intervened.  The whole vibe changed suddenly– all of the girls immediately backed off, leaving Dan and I as the only ones pushing Jordan to do the shot.  Still, I didn’t quite lose heart yet- Dan and I had each made Jordan do all sorts of stupid shit over the years, certainly our combined power would be enough to counteract the bridal barrier.

And then he handed the shot back to us.  And I realized then, and for the first time, that we had lost him to her.

Needless to say, I was disheartened.  I tried to console myself the rest of the weekend by engaging in my usual wedding weekend activities– drinking, dancing, hitting on the bride’s mom.  But I kept coming back to that moment, and whenever I tried to discuss my feelings with people, they always tried to console me by saying that I hadn’t lost him, I had gained her, and stuff like that.  I wasn’t so sure about that– this girl seems pretty clever, I’m not sure she would be down to celebrate Labor Day by going around Budapest buying baristas buffalo wings.  There was also the argument that she was a really good person who was extremely worthy of being Jordan’s puppetmaster wife and best friend.  This made me feel better– I realized that she’s a good person who really cares about Jordan’s well-being, whereas I am an evil person who is primarily interested in my own entertainment, and that the battle for Jordan’s soul is on.

The kamikaze incident was a shot heard round the world, but I have not yet begun to fight.

(P.S.  It’s tongue-in-cheek folks, I know it’s hard to tell sometimes.  Congratulations Jordan and Kate– we all love you.)

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