No, not me... I'm off to Las Vegas this weekend to serve as Best Man for my friend (really brother-from-another-mother) Nick. I hate Vegas. I don't drink. I don't gamble. And I certainly don't believe I should have to pay for sex. But I love Nick. Nick is the kind of buddy who you could call at 3 a.m., tell him to come to your house and bring his gloves, a shovel and his car with the big trunk... and he would do it. He wouldn't ask any questions, would even probably bring snacks, would do whatever you asked no matter what (or who) it entailed and would never mention it again. Or judge. Or rat you out. Not that I expect ever to require such an act of unconditional friendship from Nick, of course, but he's just that kind of friend.
I hope that everyone has a Nick in their lives. I am honored that he chose me to be his wing man on one of the most important days of his life.
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