Another reason I am glad I don't live in The Swich

So it is almost time for me to hop on a plane to Sydney for my buck's weekend. Suddenly it all seems so real. We have prepared for the wedding for so long that it has seemed a touch unreal up until now. It has just been Girl O' Sand and myself working on little projects like dresses and rings and booze. All of it concerning just the two of us but now others are becoming involved. It isn't just us sharing some sort of delusion, it is real.

In the area where I grew up, a fairly typical outer suburban satellite city which we will call The Swich, the stories of buck's parties generally involved considerable consumption of the local lager, a young lady who performed a burlesque cabaret act and the groom-to-be making the acquaintance of the local constabulary. The interaction with Queensland's finest generally occurred when they came across the lucky fellow naked and chained to a post on a major intersection. These stories may be apocryphal, I was fortunate enough to leave said city without experiencing one of these fun night's out, but the frequency with which they are told would have me believe them.

Most of the attrocities seemed to be the work of the groom's "best man". Now being the inclusive chap that I am, I have three best men. Each an old and dear friend and somewhat symbolic of, but certainly not restricted to, certain stages of my life. Hank Five, has been an amigo since my mid-teens, Ambrose, was one of my first friends I made in the scary new world of Sydney in my mid-twenties, and Oldest Friend In The World (OFITW), is just that. We were childhood next-door-neighbours and I cannot remember life without him being in it. Unfortunately due to the tyranny of distance Hank Five cannot make it this weekend. Ambrose is the sensitive type and being the father of a one year old has no energy for shennanigans anyway, so I fear not his presence. OFITW is another case though. Still a single man he is always keen for various forms of indulgence and, despite having left The Swich as a teenager, he is well indoctrinated to its social customs. He has assured me that all conduct will be discreet and modest but still I must keep my wits about me.

It occurred to me today that I had often day dreamed about my buck's party, as part of the much larger getting married day dream. I often drift off into my own imaginary world. I think it often involved the private room at Tetsuya's and lots of great booze. Alas that is not to be. Far too expensive. Instead it is going to be paintball, something I have always wanted to try, a few beers in a sunny beer garden somewhere and a big feed of Chinese. It should be fun. Unfortunately some very good friends cannot make it from interstate but I will get to see them all next week.

Sunday hopefully will be spent in the water at Bondi, the place where I feel most alive.