It’s Saturday night in the autumn of 2012.
I’m in a car driven by Josh Exton - a real handsome son-of-a-bitch. Chiseled jaw. Wavy brown hair. Lips like a barracouta.
If I was a prepubescent girl I would’ve written to Dolly asking how I could make him my first.
Quietly flirting in the backseat are Sarah Battista and Ben Spencer. Rumours of a relationship between the two had been growing like weeds in a deceased estate.
Ben told Simon who told Dimma who then emailed Harry who forwarded that email to Shane who told Ben’s sister who told Bec who then had lunch with Tash who told Molly who told Sarah.
Apparently that’s how it went down. Apparently.
I should’ve guessed from the nervous chatter in the backseat that a new relationship was developing. But I was fading heavily and too busy crucifying R Kelly’s ‘Ignition Remix’ to notice.
I’m stoked Ben and Sarah finally got together that mild Autumn night. They go together like Mayfair and Park Lane.
I’ve known Benny since we were wee lads cutting up oranges in the canteen at Don Bosco Primary School.
Everyone needs a friend like Ben Spencer. He’s a flawless person. I know I talk up most of the people I marry, but this guy… holy shit. He’s an albatross. A banana from the boundary.
Ben’s had more hits than most, but he always comes back stronger than a grizzly after hibernation.
And in no way is Sarah Battista standing in the shadows. She’s remarkable, strong, loyal and simply a wonderful, wonderful human being. Josh Exton also says she’s the prettiest girl to come out of the ‘hot year’ of St Francis Xavier College.
As Benny would say; “you’re talking sense, Exton.”
I loved their wedding. Really did. It was the perfect blend of Italian tradition meets Aussie celebration.
It was like having a VB with gnocchi.
The view at their ceremony was paradise, and Si Van Dam’s best man speech was on cue.
Glorious night. Glorious people. Not so glorious hangover.
All the best Sarah and Benny.