Birthday Roast Speech: How to Roast a Friend on Their Big Day

Good evening, everyone. For those who don't know me, I'm Jordan. I was Marcus's college roommate at Georgia State, which means I've known him for twenty years and I still don't know how he got here. Because he didn't use GPS.

Marcus is turning 40 today. Forty! Look at all of you, standing in his backyard, eating his food. Well, some of his food. We'll get to that.

Let's start with the GPS. Marcus says he doesn't need one because he "has a feel for roads." I want you to hold on to that phrase. In 2015, we drove to a Braves game. Marcus was in charge of directions. He had a feel. The feel took us across the state line into Alabama. We missed the first four innings of a baseball game in Atlanta. We were not in Atlanta. We were barely in the same time of day.

And to this day, he calls it "the scenic route." Ten years later! Nobody else calls it that. Everyone else calls it "the day Marcus got us lost." So tonight, from now on, I'm calling him Captain Scenic Route.

Now, Marcus loves to eat. He owns a smoker grill named Big Linda. Not "the smoker." Big Linda. He talks about her like she's a family member. I'm pretty sure he's checked on her at night. Tasha, I'm so sorry, and also, I hope you've made peace with Linda.

For his 35th birthday, Marcus got up at 4 a.m. to smoke a brisket for twenty people. Four a.m.! By 8 p.m., it still wasn't done. We gave up and ordered pizza. Then Marcus served that brisket the next morning for breakfast and called it "a planned two-day event." Marcus, nobody plans a two-day event for dinner. That's not a plan. That's a hostage situation with barbecue sauce.

And if you ever go out to eat with him, bring a snack. He takes twenty minutes to read the menu. Twenty minutes! He studies it like it's a contract. And then he orders the same bacon cheeseburger he always orders. Every time. The menu is just a hobby.

Also, don't text him a yes-or-no question. Ask him "Are you coming?" and you will get a four-minute voice memo. There's a pause, a thought, a story about a road, and somewhere around minute three, maybe a "yes."

But here's the thing. Underneath all the wrong turns and long voice memos, Marcus is the most dependable person I know. When anyone needs help moving, he's the first one there. He has driven me to the airport at 5 a.m. more times than I can count. And I'll point out, he always gets me there on time. Somehow the man with no GPS never gets lost when it matters.

He coaches his daughter's softball team, and he knows every kid's name and favorite snack. Every one. That's not a small thing. That's who Marcus is. He pays attention to people, and he shows up for them.

Marcus, I'm lucky to call you my friend. Forty looks great on you.

(Raise your glass)

So everybody, please join me. Marcus, here's to a year where every road gets you where you're going, and dinner is ready on time. And if the brisket isn't done, we already have the pizza.

Good evening, everyone. I'm Lorraine, and I've been Denise's friend for 22 years. She knows that, because I've told her. But she still leaves me voicemails that start, "Hello, Lorraine Whitfield, this is Denise." Denise, I have your number. It comes up on my phone with your picture. I know it's you.

Tonight we're celebrating 50 years of Denise. And I know she has labeled every one of them.

Denise owns a label maker. She has labeled everything in her house. The pantry. The drawers. The cords. She even labeled the shelf where the label maker lives. So if it ever runs away, it knows where home is.

She is also very careful. She won't watch a movie until she has read at least three reviews. Three! By the time she decides, the rest of us have seen it, forgotten it, and are watching the sequel.

Now, let's talk about book club. We picked a 600-page novel. Denise was the only one who finished it. She showed up with printed discussion questions. With footnotes. Then she learned the rest of us had watched the movie.

She was shocked. We were full of snacks. And every single month since, she brings up "the footnote incident." Denise, we are sorry. We are also not sorry. Those were very nice footnotes.

But here is the truth. Denise is the kind of person who makes everyone around her feel looked after.

When my mother was sick, Denise organized a meal train for six weeks. She color-coded it, of course. And she dropped off half the meals herself. I will never forget that.

She remembers everyone's birthday. Everyone's. And she sends a handwritten card every time. Most of us can barely remember our own birthdays. Denise remembers yours, and she has a stamp ready.

Denise, you keep all of us organized, and you keep all of us loved. Fifty years in, you are still the person we call first.

(Raise your glass)

So please join me. To Denise: may your year be well labeled, your reviews all five stars, and your friends always read the book. Or at least the footnotes. Happy birthday!