“Hey, Chip, how’s it going? Counting down the days till the big I do?”
“Hi, Jay!” I don’t use my real name in the business. Jay is an easy pseudonym, and using it helps to keep my worlds separate. “Just wanted to double, triple, quadruple check everything for next weekend.”
I reel off the details, hoping to avoid mentioning my now dateless state. “My groomsmen are at the ready. Troy will be with me, along with his wife. He’s fantastic and has an uncanny ability to fit into any situation. And then there’s Sully, also with the missus as his plus-one. He’s very focused, very committed to the job, so he’ll be excellent. You’ll have all the groomsmen you need to pair up with the bridal party for photos and walking the aisle.”
“Perfect. That’s everything Ashley wants, and that’s all I want—to make her happy.”
“That’s a great way to start a marriage.” This is perfect. He’s not even thinking about whether he wants me to bring someone.
“And if anyone asks, we met in the running club and you work in advertising,” he says, recapping the backstory we created.
“You’ve got it right. You’ve got everything right.”
“But what’s your favorite cuisine? I should probably know, right? Shoot. What if someone asks? What if someone wants to know your favorite book? What if someone wants to know your sign?”
“Of the zodiac?”
“Yes! I don’t know it.”
“I promise you, Chip, no one expects you to know the astrological sign of a guy friend. Also, anything by Vonnegut and nothing by Ayn Rand, and everything by Nick Offerman. And I like Thai and Japanese.”
“I dig Nick Offerman too. I bet we exchanged dog-eared paperbacks. Wink, wink.”
“With Offerman you really ought to get the audiobook, but sure, paperback works.”
“And your favorite band? What if someone wants to know that? What if they want to know what concerts we’ve been to? Should I say Coldplay?”
“No!” With the fire of a thousand blazing suns, I kill that notion dead. “Never. Coldplay is what they play to torture you behind enemy lines. I’m a Beatles and Rolling Stones man.”
“Oh, cool! I like them too! Almost as much as Coldplay. I’d say maybe we could go to a Stones show someday, but I’ll probably be too busy. I always am. I’m sure it’s the same with you.”
“Absolutely.”
This is what I like about Chip. Despite his puppy-dog persona, he’s not poised to turn into a stage-five clinger after the wedding. He hired me because he’s completely content to spend his time with his woman, his 5K runs, his work, and his dog. Friendships aren’t his focus, so I don’t suspect he’ll be clutching my ankle and trying to follow me out the door when this is over.
“One more thing. Can you do one of those fancy accents? Ashley loves Love Actually, so she’d get a kick out of it. I like to pretend I’m Hugh Grant sometimes. I do the whole ‘Jump’ routine for her, and she digs that. ‘Yeah, Betty, I’m thinking, can we move the Japanese ambassador to four o’clock tomorrow?’”
“I’ll go full Hugh Grant for the groom and bride,” I say, giving him my best posh voice.
“Ahhh! Yours is so much better than mine. But hey, at least my lady likes this guy from Tallahassee. And you’re bringing along your lovely lady friend. I can’t wait to meet her. I love meeting new people.”
I wince, slowing my pace as I reach Gin Joint, scrubbing a hand across my stubbled jaw. “About that. Turns out I’ll be flying solo next weekend. But it’ll be great.”
I leave it at that. No need to dive into details.
“Oh, no, no.” His voice zooms ten stories high. “Buddy, you can’t come solo. I sold Ashley on you with the understanding that you were half of a couple. That all our men were coupled up.”
“I understand, but at the end of the day, why does it matter?”
“Her youngest sister is one of the bridesmaids, and she’s only eighteen. Amelia’s completely boy-obsessed. Ashley is worried her sister will throw herself at any good-looking guy in her path. And you? Well, look in the mirror. You’re too hot to be single. Not my words—those are Ashley’s. Actually, she said that about all of you when I showed her the pics, so you definitely need a plus-one.”
“Thanks. I think. But wait a second. Do we have enough groomsmen? Don’t you need one for her sister? Or is that playing into the issue?”
“Don’t worry about Amelia. She’ll walk with the maid of honor.”
“Good to know,” I say diplomatically. That’s an odd situation, the bridesmaid needing a chaperone, but maybe it solves the problem of the boy obsession. “And I’ll find a date.”
“I bet you can find one as quickly as I can find the problem in this pipeline project I’ve been studying while we’ve been on the phone. Yup. Found it!”
“You’re speedy.”
“That’s what she said.” He laughs and says good night before I can tell him that’s not really how that saying is supposed to work.
As I find myself at the door of Truly’s bar, I flash back to advice I gave a reader on my blog a few weeks ago. He’d been invited to a work event on the weekend and wanted to know if he should find a date for it on Tinder.
My response?
We modern gentlemen face this “where to find my plus-one” dilemma all the time. But let me share my best advice with you. Are you ready? Come closer. A little closer. DO NOT FIND YOUR DATE ON TINDER.
Tinder isn’t the place for those kinds of hookups—the ones where you need to be a gentleman. Where you want people to remember you, not your date who drank all the free champagne.
No, I told this reader the best solution when we need someone by our side for a special occasion is to ask a friend.
It was sound advice, if I do say so myself. I suppose I should follow it.
7
As a rule of thumb, I don’t dwell on problems or linger over setbacks. I certainly don’t wallow.
