The Hose

Manolo and Balls Mahoney, playing with the sand in between their toes...with horses

My old roommate, Balls Mahoney got married this past weekend. I was pleasantly surprised to be invited. At the end of the day I am not that good at keeping in touch with people and Balls is a good example of this. For example, this past December, Balls called to mention he was in NY and wanted to get together. I wasn't sure if I was mortified because I took a call from the toilet or because I had not told a good friend that I had moved to California 16 months prior to receiving this call.

Sitting at the Columbia University Chapel, I reflected on what a poor friend I am, on how even now I am getting invited to parties in the Bay Area and ignoring invitations to play "No Limit, Texas Hold'em" in SF. Right then and there, I resolved to do a better job as a friend. I was so gripped by these thoughts that I did not really look at the crowd as it formed. When I finally looked up, rather than seeing a ruddy cheeked, Boston Irish clan or a proper Chinese family, I was greeted by stares from a decidedly Indian looking family. At first, I reasoned:

"Hey, if I were getting married today there'd be a distracting amount of Indians there too"

Except it would be balanced by a disproportionately loud Latino contingent.

So this all merited further investigation. Maybe these people are sneaking one in, during the next 5-10 minutes, in between other services. It was worth checking in on. I asked someone standing in front who was getting married. The names he gave were not familiar. Not only that, but Balls was no where to be seen on the wedding schedule....

Holy shit! I went to the wrong church!

Before you run off and judge, let me defend myself. There are a couple of reasons I was sitting at the Chapel up at Columbia Chapel

(1)When last we got together, Balls had mentioned that the wedding was going to be in the Columbia area, This was logically supported by the fact that we were meeting on 95th St. He went as far as to mention "we were just getting some location details straightened out"

(2) The invitation I received, though very nice had been lost when I moved so really I had no idea about details. I had to call KenTak3 the night before to verify date and time (but not location)

(3)I really love Columbia University and have fond memories of walking by the chapel and wishing I could one day be at (or participate) in a wedding there.

(4) I generally suck

Not knowing what to do, my flee response kicked in.

By the time I stopped running I was on 114th and Amsterdam walking towards a Kinkos. Hoping http://www.theknot.com could bail me out. Instead I started making calls

I quickly called the bumpasaurus and he bailed me out. As an aside, I have to wonder what did people do before the advent of the cell phone and the internet? I make a mental note that I need either a wife or a blackberry very soon, if only to keep my personal schedule under control.

The wedding itself went off without a hitch except for the part where a disheveled, large headed Ecuadorian ran in thru the front door like something out of "The Graduate" only to fix his hair and find a seat with out creating any further commotion.

The reception was itself very classy. Subdued except for one very drunk white woman who kept flipping around a 4 year old Chinese girl in the air on the dance floor.

The one thing to mention here, is that Manolo is far better friends with Balls that I am to either of them and it touched me. After watching the slide show everyone in the audience thought it ok to debate the depth of their bond. The slide show started, very normally, presenting assorted pictures of the happy couple growing up...It was great. At some point though, Manolo's face overtook the whole situation. He was in every picture towards the end, often with out the future Mrs. Balls. His outsized personality captured forever on 32mm film. Look there's Balls and Manolo camping, here's a picture of Balls and Manolo hugging each other in tuxedos, and lest we forget here's the time Balls and Manolo went horseback riding on the beach as the sun was setting. I've been to a lot of gay weddings in the last few months, but let me say none of have been as heartwarming.

Except this was not a gay wedding at all, where was Balls' fiancee Sandy in all of this?! Why were there more photos of Manolo than either sets of parents or any number of siblings? Very strange...

By around 1am, things had gone from bad to worse. What started out as a group of 35 leaving the reception to head to a bar in Chelsea, ended with me, Manolo and an Asian girl looking for an HBI walking into a bar in the meat packing district. Normally at this point, I would have pulled a ken and just left. But tonight, Manolo, who was drinking like his boyfriend had just abandoned him (did he?) needed me, his brother, to step in and watch his back. Like most other nights spent with Manolo, this was going to end one of two ways
(1) He and I eating horse meat out of a garbage can in an alley way at 330am.
(2) He and I proclaiming a brotherly love in front of anywhere from 2-8 silicone supported boobies.

Surprisingly, it ended in a completely different way, with me ripping my blazer off a (different) Asian girl on 14th and 9th, giving a big thumbs to a happy group of party goers in a limo and running down the street like I owed somebody money.

Somewhere, Manolo is still drinking, and holding himself...