After Frankie Stepped in to Plan the Bachelor Party, Susan Almost Cancelled the Wedding...

Previously, Chapter 11: This Is How You Remind Me of What I Really Am...

In 1979, when we got married, a bachelor's party was a special event between the groom and his buds, but there were no "destinations"; it was done locally, usually at someone's house. I had two best men, Pokey and Mick, but despite that, Frankie stepped in and tried to take over as party planner…

He was well connected, wink-wink, and without asking, lined up a "salt 'n pepper" team and had 'em on the evening's agenda. The party was at Mick's place, a single-family house he lived in with Richard, the owner. Pokey didn't want any part of planning the bachelor's party.

When Frankie told me about his plans, I was shocked that he had anything to do with it. He was probably the last person I'd put in charge of anyone's bachelor's party, never mind my own. I told him that wasn't the kind of bachelor's party I had in mind. He said not to worry, "As the groom, you'll have the girls first, so no sloppy-seconds for you!" After I blinked in shock, he went on to say that if I wanted to wuss out, I could waive my rights and give my groom privilege to one of my best men. Pokey wanted no part of it. Mick, on the other hand, didn't seem to have a problem stepping in and taking my place…

When Susan got wind of Frankie's plan to bring in adult entertainment, a salt 'n pepper team no less, she told me that if she found out it happened, the wedding was off, and she meant it. What the fuck was I thinking? I had to cancel the entertainment…

I took a ride over to Frankie's house and told him what Susan said, and that he had to call off the girls. After an evil laugh that seemed to emanate from deep in his belly, he said, "No problem," like he knew it was coming. His backyard abutted Susan's backyard; they were long-time neighbors. When Susan was in grade school, she was best friends with one of his sisters, so he knew her and respected her decision to keep working girls from taking over my bachelor's party. 

We were all drinkers, and there wasn't a sober guy in Richard's house. Someone invited an old guy, a onetime sailor who was called "The Major", and he played a ukulele and sang dirty songs he learned at sea. He fell way short of a salt 'n pepper team, but we had a lot of laughs singing along with that crazy old coot.

At one point, we decided to head over to Thackeray's in Walpole, a local watering hole where we spent many an evening. It was only a few minutes from Richard's house.

As soon as we walked in the front door, all the bartenders jumped over the bar and rushed towards us. They didn't want to let Elvis in. Elvis and I had been friends since first grade; he was born on June 13th, a day before me. We celebrated birthdays together since we were kids.

A huge fight broke out. Fists were flying. My cousin Mark, an MIT grad and engineer, who had come for the party not expecting to be involved in a barroom brawl, connected with a couple of haymakers. We fought hard, but none of us knew why it was happening.

When the punches finally stopped, I explained to Jimmy, one of the bartenders, that this was my bachelor party, and we were there to have some fun. He took me aside and told me why Elvis wasn't allowed in the bar tonight or any other night.  According to him, the night before, Elvis was sitting at the bar next to his (Jimmy's) fiancée and did something lewd, crude, and socially unacceptable. They threw him out of the bar and told him he was never allowed back. Jimmy said it was either that or jail. 

I led Ellie out of the bar, and before he got in his car, I let him have it. "What the fuck were you thinking, Ellie? Go home!"

Ellie was tough, but certainly not the brightest bulb. I used to tease him on his birthday, "You were born on the 13th. One more fuckin' day and you coulda had this-" And then I'd point to my head, and he knew what I meant. 

Susan's bachelorette party was mild compared to my bachelor party. Afterward, Susan and I decided we'd take the bridesmaids and the groomsmen out for drinks at the Canton House the night before the wedding. It was a Chinese restaurant located at Cobb's Corner with a tiki bar that served drinks with strange names in unusual vessels garnished with tiny cocktail umbrellas, a sure sign that you were gonna get incredibly fucked up! My drink of choice was the "Suffering Bastard"…

I can see the destiny you sold

Turned into a shining band of gold

I'll be wrapped around your finger

I'll be wrapped around your finger…

To be continued…