Bride's father reserved a fancy restaurant for the rehearsal -- but what I call the reversal -- dinner that serves just two parties per night. Again, the upbeat mood, laughter, singing, and just overall craziness prevailed. The toasts went on for an hour. It turned into a roast of sorts with wild stories involving Groom and Bride. I had one teed up, but held back, opting to just watch. The group plowed through around thirty bottles of wine. And that was just the beginning of what turned out to be Groom's second bachelor party. All of the boys continued on to the Marriott bar for more drinking and dancing. Groom, Brother, Biff and Barf were all over the girls. Hilo and I just kicked back and took it in. Groom got blindingly drunk. Back at the hotel, I had to physically restrain him from doing more damage. He had already broken three hallway lights. We overloaded and subsequently got stuck in an elevator and had to pry the doors open and jump down half a floor to get out. Groom was kicking ash trays off the walls and abusing everything in sight. I shoved him into the room. He was changing clothes and began a speech on the problems that Mom has. It looked to me as though he was headed down the same road. The halo might keep him clean for a while. Groom ended up passing out on the same bed as Biff and Barf, all just wearing their boxers.

The morning of the wedding began with me reading and everyone else waking up still drunk. After breakfast we hung around the hotel until it was time to go to the church. Biff drove. I was tactician. We had fallen a little behind schedule and might have broken a few traffic laws.