The second chapter of “Stories from the road” brings us to Cape May, New Jersey on Friday November 14th, 2003. This is the day before my wedding. My fiance and I were living in Indianapolis, Indiana at the time, but decided to have a “road” wedding as most of our family members were from the New York/New Jersey/Philly area. We love Cape May and couldn’t have chosen a better place to hold our nuptials. Our wedding was held in a Catholic church, and to this day I can’t believe that God didn’t strike me down right there and then due to my fairly open view on how corrupt and sick the fucking church (and most organized religion) has become. In fact one of my new, but now all-time, favorite movie quotes regarding the Catholic church is from The Departed in the scene where Costello (Nicholson) is talking to a couple of priests in a diner. This quote sums it up for me:
You recall our chat? Little boys. Sucking on their peckers, etc… and so forth. I am as God made me. Is that your rationale? May I remind you - in this archdiocese, God don’t run the bingo.Â
Enjoy your clams, cocksuckers.Â
I have a chubby right now from that line. But I digress. Our reception was held at Congress Hall, which was quite frankly fucking awesome, and most of the wedding party, guests, and my (now) wife and I had rooms there the night before and night of the wedding. Coincidentally, there was a film festival occurring the same weekend in Cape May and in Congress Hall. The guest of honor (so to speak) was Billy Baldwin who was the star of films such as, er, what the fuck was he in? Oh yeah, Backdraft and Flatliners.  Can somebody say “I peaked in the early ’90’s people!”. At any rate, Cape May and Congress Hall were pretty crowded due to the film festival and let’s face it, everybody was there to see me.

As I mentioned, this story actually occurred the night before my wedding. As most traditional weddings go, we had a rehearsal and rehearsal dinner the evening before. After the distaste of a church rehearsal, we had a lovely rehearsal dinner with a nice walk down memory lane in the form of a slide show put together by my father that chronicled my wife’s and my lives up to that point (which was mostly cute pictures of my wife when she was a kid and me acting like an asshole when I was a kid). After the dinner, much of the wedding party and out-of-town guests “retired” to a bar in Congress Hall, which was a basement bar called The Boiler Room because it was in fact the old boiler room for the hotel.
I had several college friends in town for the wedding and a couple of them were in the wedding party itself. It was a blast hanging out in the Boiler Room re-hashing old stories of how stupid we were in college and all of the retarded shit we used to get into. One thing led to another and we started pounding a few beers which led to shots. One of my good friends from college “Chops”  suggested that we all do a new variation of the standard tequila shot (you know with the salt and lime and shit) called the tequila stuntman. If you look it up on wikipedia, this is how it is described:
A stuntman is performed by:
- Snorting the salt from the back of the hand or by using a straw.
- Slamming the shot of tequila.
- Squirting the juice from the lime into your eye.
Ok, I know what you’re thinking, well actually I don’t, but yes, we are idiots. So I tried to weasel my way out of it with excuses like “I’m getting fucking married tomorrow you assholes!” or “I don’t wanna”. The problem is, I just couldn’t crack their argument of: “Don’t be a pussy”. So there I was, lime in one hand, salt on the other, and holding a shot of tequila, which I hate. And I did the deed. I would love to tell you it was cool or it was a great experience, but that would be lying. It sucked. I snorted the salt, which burned the shit outta the back of my nose/throat, drank the shot, which tasted like Mexican ass, and then leaned back and squirted the shit out of my eye with lime which burned like holy water. So there I was burning throat, burning eye, and holding back some puke…. good times. So we did a couple of em.
At this point, the film festival had wrapped up its program and the bar was filling up. Guess who shows up to the bar shit-faced? That’s right, Billy Baldwin. Some celebrities are down to earth and chill, but Billy Baldwin was definitely NOT one of those guys. He was an unadulterated douche-hole, that’s right I just made that word up. He was hitting on anything that moved including a couple of girlfriends/dates of my friends, and had a small contingent of old lady wanna-fucka-celeb-hangers-on following him around. The highlight of our “Baldwin Experience” had to be when we convinced him to do a tequila stuntman with us. Full disclosure, he didn’t snort the salt, but he did the shot and squirted a little lime in his eye, so I’ll give him that. The following pic is evidence of the Baldwin siting, in this pic, Chops (in red) is explaining the finer aspects of how you perform a tequila stuntman to a vaccuous Billy Baldwin (he’s the retarded looking guy in blue
). BTW, in case you’re interested, the old lady wanna-fucka-celeb-hanger-on is in the background of this pic over BB’s shoulder.

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