One wedding and no funerals (aka The Tale of Rev. Benjamin Fields)

I'm trying to cheer an old friend up as much as possible this week, so I decided to write about a significant event in his life, and mine.
We were young and stupid. We're still stupid, but the point is, we were young.
My friend had finally decided to tie the knot.
This presented one problem. We are part of a tight-knit triumvirate, or trio for us stupid people.
I knew the wedding party would be small, and I knew one of the trio was a slight step up from me and would inevitably be the best man. So I wondered, selfishly, if I would be included.
Was I in for a surprise.
I got the call, and my friend got as far as "We were wondering if you would do us the honor of ..." when I was ready to blurt out "Yes, of course. The honor is mine, sir."
But he didn't finish the way I expected. He didn't want me in the wedding party.
"We were wondering if you would do us the honor of (wait for it) performing the ceremony?"
I was thunderstruck. Me? The same guy who this very Thursday morning was asked if I had a religious preference before a blood test and replied "Non-Unitarian?"
"We understand if you want to think about it for a while," my friend said, now back in the time when we were young and obnoxious but polite.
"I'll do it. I'm in. I am absolutely honored," I said.
"Great, you don't have to worry about anything. We'll get you ordained online and take care of all that stuff."
The papers came. I was now a reverend in the Church of New Life.
I did absolutely no research on the Church of New Life. Anyone with half a brain would have at least looked them up on Wikipedia. I didn't, and I still haven't. I don't really care in what way they differ from the multitudes of organized religion that are tearing this country apart (I play guitar every weekend in a Methodist Church, so I realize the hypocrisy of the above statement.)
My employer was slightly flabbergasted when I asked for a day off so I could go perform a wedding ceremony.
"Is this something that you do?"
"At least once," I replied.
The ceremony was winged for the most part. I knew bride and groom very well, knew that they were perfect for each other, knew they were wonderful friends and knew that the love between them was rare and special. So the words came easily.
I mainly stuck to that, with some jokes sprinkled in here and there. A transcript may be available, I know at least one of my friends was sitting in the back texting "Ben just said this" to another friend who couldn't be present.
I closed with "Now by the power vested in me, for some reason, I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."
I signed some papers later, and it was done.
My fall from grace did not take very long.
We retired to the hotel where my friend had a room ... and enough booze to fill a hot tub.
The University of Kentucky also happened to upset No. 1 LSU in overtime in football that night. Drinking continued. There are photographs.
The phone rang. We thought it was management calling to tell us to calm down or get out. But it was the bride and groom, asking if we wanted to come down to their room for a bit.
At first I thought we might get trapped up in some weird prima nocta thing, but they wanted to give us presents, and, well, drink some more.
I realized I had hit my personal wall when I was out on a balcony pleading with my friend's ex-girlfriend not to get back together with him.
"He doesn't deserve you!" I said in the uneven, but fluent tongue of Maker's Mark. It's akin to Latin.
"I can't believe you and I are talking about this," she kept saying, equally inebriated.
I sobered up, swore I would never drink again, and drove myself and Mr. Transcript home.
I haven't performed any weddings since. I don't know if I'm still licensed.
I have had the occasional drink here and there (and everywhere) since then. I'm not going to pretend to be a saint. I'm an adult (technically) and it is my choice. It is also my responsibility not go overboard.
Bride and groom continue to live happily ever after, even though this has been a hard week for them. But I want them to know they are two of the best people on earth, and they don't deserve the sadness they're going through. It will pass. Everything does with time. At least, that's what people say.
I just want them and their family to know I will do anything to help. Whether it's transporting some one somewhere, handling some odd job, making funny faces or juggling chainsaws (which I cannot do) I'll do it.