So far, Raphael Augustine’s ten year career as a comedian consists of a lot of ones: one night gigs, one night stands, and one night in jail. But he’s committed to inking a successful TV deal, nonetheless. He’s not looking for a relationship and certainly doesn’t expect to have his briefs tied in a knot by a prim and proper woman from Connecticut.
There’s not much to laugh about in Daisy Fletcher’s life. She never thought an Ivy League degree would land her work as an adult webmaster. Years later, fake chat room dates are her only companions, and a failing business her reward. Her father always told her men only want one thing. By selling that one thing to virtual customers, she’s lost faith in the opposite sex.
After Daisy catches Raphael’s shirt during a striptease at a gay bar, she’s tempted. Can a rakish comic change Daisy’s ideas about love and fortune?
Downed my third drink, sidled up to the mike, ready to go.
“Fornication,” I pretended to slur. A few titters of nervous laughter went through the crowd. That got their attention. ‘Statlers’ always did. “For an occasion such as this….” I started the real speech. Did the usual thing, thanked the hosts, and the band. “I’m honored to be Scott’s best man. But I did ask him if I’m the ‘best man,’ why isn’t Lindsay marrying me?” Another laugh. Amateur joke.
The hangover of the night before faded away. I put down the champagne in my hand. Wouldn’t need any more alcohol tonight. “When he first approached me about marriage, I thought he was asking for my hand. I tried to let him down easy because Proposition Eight hadn’t been overturned yet.” Easy liberal crowd. Easy laugh. People always assumed I was gay.
“Coming up with a best man speech is hard. Thank God for Google. Early yesterday morning, I started researching best man speeches on the Internet.” I paused for a beat. “Five hours later, I started to look for speech ideas.” That got a big laugh. I wonder if they’d think it was funny if they knew it was true.
“Seriously,” I shook the paper in my hand. “Scott. I’m trying to read this speech, but your handwriting is awful.” More laughter. I looked at Scott’s parents. “I think I’m supposed tell everyone here about your most embarrassing moment.” Stage whisper. “But I think the statute of limitations isn’t up yet on that one. So we’ll skip the criminal justice portion of this speech.” Shit, that one fell flat. I hated doing new material before a crowd that expected a show. Moving on. I did the rest of the speech straight. I’m not a half-bad actor. There were a few tears. But weddings did that to people. They would have cried about almost anything. I could see the natives were getting restless. Time to end this thing.
“Even Stevie Wonder could see what a great couple Lindsay and Scott are. Wishing you many years of happiness.” Cursing myself for not substituting the arguably more famous Ray Charles, I raised my untouched glass. “Let’s toast the newlyweds.”
I came off the dais to applause. That attention, that reaction was what I lived for. It was a high like nothing else.
“Fornication,” I pretended to slur. A few titters of nervous laughter went through the crowd. That got their attention. ‘Statlers’ always did. “For an occasion such as this….” I started the real speech. Did the usual thing, thanked the hosts, and the band. “I’m honored to be Scott’s best man. But I did ask him if I’m the ‘best man,’ why isn’t Lindsay marrying me?” Another laugh. Amateur joke.
The hangover of the night before faded away. I put down the champagne in my hand. Wouldn’t need any more alcohol tonight. “When he first approached me about marriage, I thought he was asking for my hand. I tried to let him down easy because Proposition Eight hadn’t been overturned yet.” Easy liberal crowd. Easy laugh. People always assumed I was gay.
“Coming up with a best man speech is hard. Thank God for Google. Early yesterday morning, I started researching best man speeches on the Internet.” I paused for a beat. “Five hours later, I started to look for speech ideas.” That got a big laugh. I wonder if they’d think it was funny if they knew it was true.
“Seriously,” I shook the paper in my hand. “Scott. I’m trying to read this speech, but your handwriting is awful.” More laughter. I looked at Scott’s parents. “I think I’m supposed tell everyone here about your most embarrassing moment.” Stage whisper. “But I think the statute of limitations isn’t up yet on that one. So we’ll skip the criminal justice portion of this speech.” Shit, that one fell flat. I hated doing new material before a crowd that expected a show. Moving on. I did the rest of the speech straight. I’m not a half-bad actor. There were a few tears. But weddings did that to people. They would have cried about almost anything. I could see the natives were getting restless. Time to end this thing.
“Even Stevie Wonder could see what a great couple Lindsay and Scott are. Wishing you many years of happiness.” Cursing myself for not substituting the arguably more famous Ray Charles, I raised my untouched glass. “Let’s toast the newlyweds.”
I came off the dais to applause. That attention, that reaction was what I lived for. It was a high like nothing else.
She lives in Los Angeles, California with her husband, son, and a menagerie of pet rescues. In spite of her decade in Hollywood, she’s never been on television or in a movie, but avoids the paparazzi like the plague. When she is not in LA, Sylvie is eating her way through Budapest.
Sylvie loves to connect with readers at sylviefox.com She can also be found on Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.
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