Best Man Speech

This speech was given at the wedding reception of two friends of mine (lets call them B and E) on Saturday 5th July 2003, where I was best man to B. Perhaps it should be a warning to anyone else thinking of choosing me to be a best man. However, credit should go to where it’s due: most of the speech was plagiarised mercilessly from speeches at hitched.co.uk.

Best Man’s Speech

Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen. For those who don’t know me, my name’s Andrew Pleasehaveadrink. Feel free to introduce yourself and call me by my full name later on. I’m the best.. man. At least, that’s what *B* said to me after I’d agreed to take this gig.

I’m very proud to be chosen as B’s best man, but I’ve never been one before. As some of you know, I’m a bit of a geek, so I figured that the easiest way to put together a speech would be to download one off the Internet.

In my Internet searches, I looked at tens, hundreds, thousands of previous speeches. They almost all started with the same joke. It went something like: being best man is like making love to the Queen Mother – a great honour, but no-one wants to do it.

I figured I wouldn’t use that joke. Not very Australian. Australians would just give her a grope.

That reminds me. The bridesmaids are looking lovely this evening aren’t they? Kate and Kate. They’ve been doing a brilliant job. The flowergirl O has trained them well, she tells me.

I’d like to say that E looks absolutely fantastic today – just one in a million. B looks as good as ever – just won in a raffle.

I remind you that the more you laugh, the faster my speech will go.

The Buck’s Night was last weekend. I don’t want to bore you all with tales of nudity, tattooing and Lady Spatchcock’s Mens Parlour. Just let me say that E tells me that afterwards B slept like a baby – every hour, he woke up crying.

For tonight, I tried to get in touch with some of B’s ex-girlfriends to see if any of them would like to send E a sympathy card. But, it appears that since an outbreak of foot and mouth, most are still in quarantine.

B proposed to E last year when they were in Sydney. He took her up to the highest restaurant in the city. Obviously he knew that it’s easier to get someone drunk when they’re at altitude.

After she said yes, they immediately sent text messages to their friends to let us know. This was in stark contrast to when they actually started going out…

They met, as all the best couples do these days, in a University singing group called MonUCS. It was back in 1997, and E had only recently moved down to Melbourne. E blames her school-friend J for introducing her to the choir. But E would’ve probably gotten herself into some sort of trouble regardless.

B was a well-known identity in the choir. In particular, for an incident where he hosted an after-rehearsal party at his rented Ivanhoe apartment and managed to lock himself outside. In trying to get back inside, he destroyed part of his kitchen. E was obviously attracted to his rock-star like aggression.

Despite being a known bond-risk, they became housemates, together with G. B and G shared a lot together. Midnight weetbix-eating binges. Bathroom towels. *disturbed look* But B *wasn’t* going to share the fact that he and E had started going out.

They had first gotten together at a MonUCS camp early in 1999, but didn’t start going out until the following MonUCS camp in April. Still, they didn’t announce anything publicly for several weeks for fear of how G would react. But by then, everyone had noticed, and when they finally let their friends know, we were all “Oh – I thought you’d been going out for months”.

The next thing we knew, they’d moved out together into their own little love-shack in… Clayton. And then they’d bought a cat together. Then we knew it was serious.

B, as many of you know, is a massive fan of trains. He told me that marriage is like driving trains. He’s going to maintain the energy, keep it to the level, and stay on the rails. E says that’s fine, but he’s not to stop and pick anyone up.

He’s doing a good job tonight, don’t you think? I’ve tried to do my best with him. According to my Internet research, I have had to ensure that the groom was sober, punctual, had his shoelaces tied, fly done up, and used the toilet before the service. Ahh. I knew I had forgotten something – you *can go* to the toilet now, B.

I am also meant to read out any telegrams or emails of congratulation.

Well, I have a note from T-P in England saying that he wishes you both lots of love, and that he would’ve liked to have been here to say that personally.

Also, a message from L S in the U.S. saying congratulations and could you please send a picture of the happy bride and groom mounted.

A fond message from the proprietor of Lady Spatchcock’s Mens Parlour, asking B, when you might be able to return and retrieve your inflatable leopard from their roof.

Lastly one to E. “We were so good together, shame you settled for him. Love, Brad Pitt.”

Finally, I’d like to offer some advice to the newly married couple. Incidentally, for those who don’t know, I’m not married myself – I just look this way because recently I’ve been a bit ill.

B, please note that there are three rings involved in marriage: Engagement ring, wedding ring, and long suffering.

Always *remember* those magic words: “*You’re* right, dear”.

And when, perhaps one day, you hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet. E, please do me a favour and let him know that all babies are born wrinkled. And tell him *before* he tries to iron the little beggar.

Seriously, I am very proud to be best man here today. You are both generous, intelligent, and passionate people, and I know that your life together will be an inspiration to the rest of us. You are very well matched, and lucky to have found each other.

Well, I’d like to thank you all for bearing with me. Since I wrote this all late last night, if you’ve enjoyed listening to this speech as much as I enjoyed writing it, then all I can do is apologise most sincerely.

Would you please stand and raise your glasses in a toast to E and B. To the Bride and Groom.

(6 mins)