Over the years I’ve had Best Men come to me, certain in their inability to deliver a best man speech. I tried to convince them that they were probably worrying more than they needed but they were adamant that it was going to be the worst day of their life. There was no way could memorise the speech, they would lose themselves, and when they thought they’d found where they left off, their speech would come out like William Burroughs’ Naked Lunch. And their audience is equally confused. Coupled with them also not wanting to look like they were just reading, I was left with a bit of thinking to do. I finally decided that in any observable reality, they were going to have to read the speech out. What option other than not turning up did they have? To circumvent their concerns about reading out and appearing amateurish, I had to create a context that would allow them to legitimately read their script.
Adding some skulduggery and the handy use of a prop. The concept I developed involved the purchasing of a sparkly pink girl’s diary. Something the best man would reveal was the Groom’s, by telling the assembled that he had to admit failure where writing the Best Man speech was concerned, so did what any self-respecting best mate would do and stole his best mate’s diary. One couple took this to glorious lengths by purchasing a diary with a lock and key, that the Bride surreptitiously attached to the Groom’s keys. Knowing that her new husband is a smart-arse, the first smart-arsed thing he would say is, “It’s not my diary.” To which she would reply, “It is your diary, the key is with your car keys.” Lo and behold he digs into his pocket and finds the key with his car keys. Handing it over, and with the ice very much broken, the Best Man opens the diary and reads extracts, written in the first person by the Groom. This allows the Best Man to keep the focus completely on the Groom, as well as being able to read straight from the page. Another bonus is a rhythm that builds every time the Best Man proclaims, “Dear diary.” Audiences crack up just at the thought of hearing another embarrassing confession the Groom has written in his diary. By the final, ”Dear Diary,” they’re howling. I’m running on. Here’s an example:
“…This chapter is titled The Uni years, and the first extract I would like to read to you is written the day before he goes to University…”
Dear Diary.
I’m off to University tomorrow and I can’t be any more excited. The thought of getting stuck into some pure maths is giving me such an adrenaline high I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. I’m going to work my head off. No distractions. Under no circumstances will you catch me in any place serving alcohol... and most definitely not, in the company of women. The only figures I want to stare at will be in chalk. So, to ensure this, I’ve grown my hair long, and I’m going to wear it in a Ponytail.
The following day.
Dear Diary.
I’m hammered. Although to look at me you would never know it. I’ve found that I have an incredible capacity to drink vast amounts of booze and look as though I could comfortably chair an AA meeting. This could come in very handy in the future, I don’t think I’ll be nervous in a job interview ever again.
However, my new mate Chris doesn’t share my genetic gift. He seems to change consistency when soaked in alcohol. He looks a bit like a sodden Wotsit. Perhaps it’s a Northern thing. I’ve never seen anything quite like it, and just to make sure I’m not seeing things, we’re going out tomorrow. On a more positive note: the ponytail is working, and women are staying well away from me. On a negative note: I’ve nearly run out of socks…”
I think I’ve said enough about this but if you want more info about utilising this idea in your Best Man speech, say hello.