RETRO BLOG: The Frank of Dan's Wedding

I was an usher in my college roommate Dan's wedding.  It was in Houston.  There are two notable stories from this wedding I want to talk about.  This is the second.

My friend Dan had a fun wedding.  I'm sure you can read all about it at his blog or his Facebook or his Twitter.  Either way, if you would have told me in college that Dan would get married someday, boy would I have laughed and laughed.  Then I'd forget why I was laughing, and we'd move onto another topic of conversation.  We'd probably talk about baseball or videogames or movies.  All in all, we would have had a great conversation.  I'm really glad you hypothetically stopped by and had that conversation with me on that day.

Dan, marriage, continued.  Since Dan was getting married, we obviously had to have a bachelor party.  The bachelor party was in Houston I think.  The wedding was in Galveston I know.  Texas all looks the same.  It's all just flat cornfields. 

Jeff and I were in Houston together, because Dan called upon us to usher the hell out of this wedding.  We met everyone for the bachelor party at some hotel in some place to get on some bus and go to some bar with some people.  Details.  The bus was supposed to leave at, we'll say, 6:00.  When 6:00 rolled around we were still waiting for Frank.  FRANK!  Where were you Frank?  At 6:30 we were still waiting for Frank.  Everyone really got mad at Frank.  No one knew Frank.  Evidently Dan met Frank in Texas, which is never good.  You should never meet people in Texas.  They could be President Bush.  Ugh, remember him? 

Finally at something like 10:30, Frank showed up.  At this point we'd all had at least four beers.  We'd all developed a nice rapport.  So many jokes at people's expenses were said, mostly by me.  Nice haircut I'd tell someone with a bad haircut.  It was classic.  When Frank showed up, I shouted, "It was nice of you to show up Frank!"  Everyone laughed because of our rapport.  We all got each other.  Frank stared at me as if I was an antelope packed in a giant marshmallow.  FRANK. 

Then, completely ignoring the fact he was three days late, Frank told Dan he got a new corvette and wanted to show him the new corvette right then.  Dan should have said, "No Frank.  You are way too late for me to go and look at your car."  But Dan said, "Okay Frank."  Bad Dan.  I am shaking my head in disgust at this memory Dan. 

One week later, we finally left for the bar.  At this point, there was an unspoken vibe going through the bus.  That unspoken vibe was this: I don't like this Frank guy. Who the hell does he think he is?  At the first bar we went to, Frank immediately got a table by himself and avoided contact with anyone else at the party.  He drank quietly in the corner.  He also had a flat-top.  Who has a flat-top?  Frank.

We left the first bar for the second bar.  On the way to the second bar we stopped at a gas station.  Dan's high school friends all bought Boone's Farm to pass around the bus.  This is a tradition they have.  It's the best tradition since Christmas.  At the same gas station I asked a homeless guy that I met in the bathroom if he wanted to join us for the bachelor party.  He said sure, but the bus driver said no.  Sorry homeless guy.  Maybe if you'd get a home, people would let you on busses more often. 

When we were back on the bus, the Boone's Farm was flowing.  We passed bottles around, we took sips, we laughed.  Rapport.  Laughter.  Except for Frank.  Frank didn't drink Boone's Farm.  Fine, whatever.  But Frank wouldn't even pass the bottle on. He'd just stare at whoever tried to hand it to him.  We finally got to the second bar where Frank went and found another dark corner to sulk in.  His sulking didn't come from a feeling of social inadequacy.  His sulking came from thinking he was above hanging out with these yokels from Iowa.  As if!  Without Iowa, the US wouldn't have Punk'd.  Without Texas, the US wouldn't have crippling debt and a broken economy.  Clearly, we win. 

At the second bar I turned to a group of people and finally spoke aloud the unspoken vibe, "I don't like this Frank guy. Who does he think he is?"  The people I said this to said, "Oh good! I thought I was the only one.  I don't like this Frank guy either. Who does he think he is?"  Of course, like all good Americans, we got ourselves overly worked up about our displeasure towards Frank.  By the end of the conversation it was agreed upon that Frank probably eats puppies and kicks babies.  Frank had no idea this was going on because he was in a corner staring at a wall or something. Frank.

After the second bar we left for a third bar.  The third bar was the most disappointing strip club in the entire universe.  That was because there was really no stripping.  That didn't stop Frank from somehow making out with two of the "strippers."  Frank was really making friends that night!  We decided to leave this worst place ever and get back on the bus (by the way, I somehow talked my way out of paying for both the cover and the drink minimum).  Once on the bus, stupid Frank would not shut up.  He wanted us all to know how awesome he was for making out with a stripper.  "I shouldn't have left. I am so awesome. Did you all see me kiss that stripper? I should have really stayed there."

Finally, mercifully, Jeff said, "I wish you would have stayed there too." Here was their exchange:

Jeff: I wish you would have stayed there too.
Frank: What?
Jeff: No one here likes you and everyone wishes you were gone.
Frank: No one likes you and everyone wishes you were gone.
Jeff (now standing and violently shaking his fist): BULLSHIT! Everyone hates you! You are awful.
Frank: Curse you.

Then Dan's brother stepped in because when Jeff is in a loud, shouty drunk mood people will die.  It has happened.  Then Frank, stupid, stupid Frank started to choke Dan's brother.  The best man!  This caused another guy, also named Jeff, to pop out of his chair and start to choke Frank.  Both Jeff's were now trying to beat up Frank, who, my penchant for peaceful understanding aside, totally deserved it. 

Somehow the fight ended. Frank didn't die.  Nor did he talk again.  The bus driver took us back to the hotel where Frank quickly ran to his corvette that he absolutely had to show Dan and left immediately.  The rest of us went to eat tacos.  The tacos were delicious.  Take that Frank! 

Unfortunately Frank did not wrap his shiny new corvette around a Houston tree.  That would have made for a nice little ending to this mean-spirited tale.  Instead, everyone told their wives and girlfriends about how awful Frank was.  They didn't believe us.  They said we were jerks.  We said just you wait.

Then they met Frank the next night at the wedding.  He was even worse in person.  Frank is just so bad.  Dan, why are you friends with Frank?  Dan, I'm worried about you in Texas.  I'm glad you are married now, but you shouldn't let people like Frank show you cars.