Thursday was Fraley’s bachelor party. I caught up with the crew at Smith & Wollensky’s downtown. They had just completed a few laps at F1 Racing and had sped here to make the 7:00 dinner reservation. The order of arrival at Boston’s best steakhouse had nothing to do with who won the go-kart race, with Serpico and Auston narrowly beating Fraley by a few minutes. “And we were hurrying,” Serpico said. “We may have swapped paint with some cars on 93.”
Over three bottles of red – S&W will keep bringing out more wine unless you tell them not to – we cut into some au poivre fillets and swapped anecdotes. Auston recounted the story of his best man losing his wife’s wedding ring the day of the wedding, while Ben (the ring-bearing best man for this ceremony) gradually paled in the corner. I talked hip hop with Jonathon W. and Will, who sided with me on the Lil Wayne debate on Overthinking It.
The party detached from S&W and wandered Boston’s South End, stopping in a couple pubs whose names I can’t remember. But that’s why I take photos – so I can recall moments that would otherwise leave me, just as consciousness left me in the back seat of a cab between the Back Bay and Davis Square. That’s also why I recount stories starring people you don’t know. This weblog’s primarily a journal for me: a means of remembering what I’ve done that I can look back on in two, five or ten years.
Of course, if Thursday night was any indication, a few beers and the company of lifelong friends can jog the memory as well.