Poem - The Best Men

A true story ...

The Best Men

A rhyme we all know urges us to remember
The events that occurred on the 5th of November.
And given the couple, it seemed only right
That my friend should get married on Fireworks Night.

Some names have been changed to protect the deluded
Some horrors omitted but most are included.
This was a wedding where no-one brought tissues
For the bride and the groom, well they had certain issues.

Bertie (we’ll call him) was fond of a drink
And his wife, soon to be, took this trend to the brink.
They made Darby and Joan look like Joseph and Mary
As every five minutes one or other’d get lairy.

And neither could claim to be new to the game
Some say she’d forgotten her own maiden name.
And Bertie had walked many a good mile
When he took his regular trips down the aisle.

The venue for weddings – the community hub
Is often a church but in this case, a pub.
But nothing tacky you must understand
For they even brought in a two piece band.

Whilst somewhat alarmed to be named as Best Man –
With alcohol likely to ruin the plan –
I did all I could so that things would go well
And I’d get no blame for the wedding from Hell.

The wedding day came and to my surprise
The bride and the groom had both managed to rise.
She was away being made up and dressed
We went for a “half” with his dad and the rest.

I had no control over half the equation
And looking at Bertie I suspected evasion
Might cross him mind with him now corpus mentis
If I let him escape I’d soon need a dentist.

It seemed a bit wrong to drink in the pub
So we went down the road to the local club.
Spirits and ale served to quell any nerves
But the journey back involved a few swerves.

And now at the venue things seem okay.
The bride has arrived – looks like we’re away.
Any time now, with vows made they’ll be kissing
When somebody whispers “The bride has gone missing.”

Trying our best to be most discreet
At the back of the room three of us meet.
“It’s only two minutes – she can’t have got far”
And in unison we all go and search in the bar.

The obvious location fails to deliver
So we look in the streets and check in the river.
Where she had gone I never discovered
But a phone call informed us the bride was recovered.

Taking your seat to hand groom the ring
On the face of it seems like a simple thing.
This was the job with which I was tasked
Thinking that I was the only one asked.

This illusion was shattered abruptly when
We discovered that Bertie had four Best Men.
Each stuperous evening - another best mate
And another Best Man for his special date.

The service proceeded with speed if not grace
And the groom’s mother cried - despair on her face.
As they rushed through the vows the couple were thinking
“Hurry up mate” we want to get drinking.

With all said and done we drank and we ate
And debated where might lie their fate.
Some gave it six months before she’d be leaving
Pessimists ventured the end of the evening.

The Best Men convened within bar’s easy reach
And decided who should be making the speech.
I think we drew lots and I was the loser
Making a speech for my mate in the boozer.

Far be it from me to ever disparage
The cynical views re. the length of the marriage.
In spite of the widespread doubts and fears
They held it together for roughly two years.

No-one can claim this time was delightful
And fuelled with booze it soon became spiteful.
Night spent in cells, police and injunctions
Soon took the place of everyday functions.

The house was re-mortgaged to enable libation
The money all gone, she made straight for the station.
Took the shirt off his back and even his vest
And the property was very soon repossessed.

Bertie is quick to make the admission
“You said it would happen” – a face of contrition.
But undeterred by all the trouble and strife
I hear that he’s working on his next final wife.