Just a Saturday afternoon at TPC Boston

I woke up on Saturday, pulled my nicest khakis out of the laundry basket, smelled them (they smelled nice), and put them on. I tucked in my brand new blue Nike golf shirt and new spikes, had a hearty breakfast (need that energy at the turn) and turned on SportsCenter while I waited for Mike, Lukas and Sam.

Then Sam called and told me to bring a nice pair of shoes because we might be eating lunch in the clubhouse at TPC Boston. Which was where we were going to play golf that afternoon. I knew that's where we were going because Sam had sent us all an email (and Mike and Lukas an extra one that I was unaware of at the time) showing our names listed on an official players' sheet.

In the clubhouse, eh? Maybe my dirty-laundry khakis are a bit too wrinkly. So I got out the iron and ironing board, put on Golf Tips OnDemand from the Golf Channel, and set to work on those wrinkly bithces.

Nice. Smooth. Ready to rock the course, I went downstairs to meet the guys - 7-iron out on the sidewalk (that was going to be my most important club of the day) practice swings.

I got in the car, told them about the golf tips. "I hope you didn't pay for those," said Lukas. Maybe that should have given me pause, but Lukas is generally a stingy guy so I just played it off to that. (He would later pay for my fee at the driving range, part of a limo, an extra 30-rack and a number of beers.)

After a solid hour at the driving range, I felt good. Confident. Then, as we're putting all the shit into Sam's trunk, I notice this huge white limo that had been kind of idling in the parking lot behind us. "Who the fuck takes a limo to the driving range?"

Suddenly, out pops Mr. Grinch himself - "Do you guys need a ride?!" (very well rehearsed) followed by Big T, J, High School Sam, Mike, Jake, and Libs - who had the honor of driving Sam's car back to his house.

It was an all-time prank, more than deserved by me after the events of Eddie Ducksauce and the Phantom Robber, and extremely well-executed. There would be no golf. I ironed my pants (which I don't even do for work) for nothing.

Before I knew it I was pounding a Bud Extra, shotgunning a Busch Light, watching Tony take a 7 minute piss in the parking lot of the Foxy Lady.

After a heated exchange in the lobby of the Foxy Lady - when Lukas, upset that it was 21+ and they wouldn't make an exception for the best man, looked back over his shoulder while walking away like a batter who just struck out and said: "Do you have a list of other places where can give all of our money? ALOT of money? Huh? Can you tell us where to give all of our money??" - we got right back in the limo and came back to Harvard Sq. The ride back involved again stopping for me to pee outside some random gas station and then chug a Red Bull J bought (I'd need the energy, apparently.)

The rest of the night blurred by and only random scenes remain in memory. Gigantic "Condoleeza Rice" burgers at Mr. Bartley's, peeing in a doorway, a practically shotgunned Scorpion Bowl at Hong Kong, Brubaker's, foosball and an encounter with a bachelorette party at Our House, J working his mojo with some cute girls at Tonic.

Finally, Sam getting kicked out of Wings over Brookline for eating in the restaurant after 2AM and finishing his wings alone, outside, on the sidewalk.

The last thing I remember was Mike saying "Dre, you REALLY want to wake up right now", and then seeing Sam slink away with a marker. I understand there were some epic foosball battles in Apt B, too.

The aftermath on Sunday morning peeled the paint of Sam's bathroom after Sam, Mike, and J went back-to-back-to-back -- we would have had a repeat of the Sox-Yankees from earlier this year but nobody could survive the odor.

It was a great night, thanks to everyone who could make it and no biggy for those who couldn't, you all had good excuses (most of which were told to me over the phone while I was stumbling around probably peeing outside).

SammyC did an incredible job pulling it together, and set the bar high - whoever's next is going to get a ridiculous bash.

See you all at the wedding.