Two bad dudes and a BMW

Big excitement last weekend. The Best Man — that’s him on the right up there — put together a slammin’ bachelor party. We took a BMW down to Foxwoods, a trip that was almost entirely free of idiotic driving maneuvers on my part. (Look, a 325 has a big blind spot, okay? Sorry for cutting you off like that, guy.) You haven’t lived until you’ve accelerated away from a tollboth in a BMW. It’s like blasting off in the Space Shuttle.

At Foxwoods, we met up with the other 14 attendees for an intense dining experience at Craftsteak. There were steaks, many bottles of wine, endless platters of appetizers and side dishes, and even bone marrow, which I can say in all candor was truly disgusting. The whole affair took over three hours. It was more like a Roman festival than any dinner I’ve ever had. Let me just say this: If you’re going to have a three-hour meal at a fancy-pants steak place, the best way to do it is as the guest of honor. (Postprandial cigars are a plus, too.)

After that it was all about the gambling. My understanding is that most of our party got killed, but I ended up with a tidy profit for the evening. That’s thanks to some initial luck at the blackjack tables, followed by a 2/4 limit hold ‘em game against the most overconfident and underskilled players you could imagine. I’ve never even played a live poker game before, but I took these fools to the cleaners. It was as easy as waiting until I got a good hand and then betting to the river. Truly some Advanced Poker Theory.

Overall, a fantastic evening, made all the more so by the company of some awesome friends. Hard to believe I’ve known some of these guys more than 20 years. Everyone should have such a band of solid bros backing him up — and such a Best Man, in particular. The night couldn’t have been any better.

Oh yeah, and we think a bunch of us got propositioned by hookers around 5:30 AM, but we’re not sure. I want to believe.