Being the best man at a wedding comes with several duties. Of those duties, making sure you don’t lose the bride’s ring, is probably at or near the very top of the list. So swallowing it? Yeah, that’s probably not a great idea.
Unfortunately, that is exactly what Redditor Jack_Shitlord did. (I am assuming that’s not his real name, though after this story it probably should be.)
This is his story…
I’m the best man for my best friend, let’s call him Doug. Doug and I have been friends forever, since middle school, and we have a very long history of pranking each other. Went to the same college, were roommates, constantly messing with each other, to the point where I got slightly paranoid for a while–any car door handle might have guacamole underneath it, any email might have porn attached, etc. Harmless stuff, but it’s always been a part of our friendship.
Fast forward ten years to this past weekend, at Doug and his fiancee’s 300 person wedding. Big church, religious ceremony, the whole nine. He gives me the ring to hold when we’re waiting in the wings–I’m supposed to keep it in my pocket. We were up drinking pretty late, last night as a free man style, and we’re all jittery and a little hungover on top of the wedding nerves, so Doug whispers to be careful with it. Weirdly, I’ve been nervous about this part of the ceremony the whole weekend, envisioning fumbling and dropping the ring into a crack in the ground or something, so in retrospect this must have struck some kind of chord in my dumbfuck psyche. Combine that with my foggy hangover brain and the reflexive act of messing with Doug built up over twenty+ years, and without thinking I put the ring in my mouth.
Key phrase there: “without thinking.”
I could immediately see this was inappropriate and unfunny, but I sort of stood my ground for a second, hoping the tension would crack and we’d get a laugh out of it. But Doug just kept mouthing wtf wtf, so I moved to take it out of my mouth. And as I did, I had one of those half-barf hiccup-belches, and I involuntarily swallowed.
As you can imagine, it pretty much only goes downhill from there.
If I’d had a gun right then, I swear to God, I would have blown my head off, and he could have picked the ring out of my throat. I just stood there, white as a ghost, and he knew what had happened. Long story short, or maybe I just don’t want to recount the next few hours, but the show went on, and we did this weird thing where I pretended to hand him the ring and he pretended to put it on the bride’s finger (the bride was utterly crushed, btw). They were officially married, but are going to redo the whole deal in a private ceremony next month.
Did I mention “worst best man ever?”
Now we move on to the ring’s, uh, extraction…
The best part is I’ve been sifting through my feces for the last two days, and the really best part is that, due to a combination of stress and rich wedding weekend food/boozing, I’m completely constipated. My days are now spent pooping into a wire mesh thing called a speci pan, carefully picking apart these dense little shame turds to find my (possibly former) best friend’s 8k wedding ring. Fucking kill me.
Don’t worry, I think the bride might just do that for you, bro.
Update 1: Just went to the doctor. I wasn’t going to update and just move on with my stupid life, but there’s been such a response, I feel obligated. Plus, the doctor was pretty funny. Young asian woman (not relevant, just setting the scene), totally serious through the whole check-up, doesn’t smile at the story or anything, does the x-ray. At the very end of the appointment, she’s going through a list of what I should do when it passes, and she says, “I also recommend ______ Pawn on Broadway.” No smile, totally dry delivery, leaves the office. Amazing.
Anyway, apparently the ring was nearly out, so she just recommended staying the course and a light laxative if needed. Will update when the deed is done!
I like his doctor, but still no ring.
Update 2: The deed is done. This is as close to feeling like a proud new mother as I will probably ever get. I am thankful that Doug’s wife is a very petite woman, because I could see a larger version of this thing doing some real damage. Oddly, it kind of came out on its own, relatively unpoopy. After a cleaning with scalding hot water and a peroxide bath, you would never know it had been through a grown man’s lower GI. Am looking into autoclave or professional sterilization services.
It remains to be seen if the wife will want it, or if I’m on the hook for another. Sent Doug a text informing him of events, and he wrote back the following: “Lol that is great, glad your (sic) okay. Will tell _____. Talk to you in a week or so.” Will update with exciting conclusion. For now, I am relieved and moving on with my life, including flushing the toilet for the first time in four days.
So she’s going to trade that ring in and get a new one, right?
I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if there is an Update 3 for the “exciting conclusion.”
Wedding ring image by Shutterstock