"Not very far away at all. Expect the commitment-related panic attack to happen any day now." Glibt joked, but, then again, it wasn't fully a joke; marriage was a frightening concept... amazing and exciting, but frightening. "The venue pictures, bridesmaid dresses for my sisters, matching your suit to their dresses, figuring out what the hell I'll be forcing Media to wear... and, then, of course, a hundred other non-clothing-related details that I'll be hounding you for your opinion on..."
Glibt trailed off from his light teasing, raising his eyebrows. He'd been about to say that he didn't really believe that Harvey didn't know where to find strippers these days when Paul piped up from the hall. All Glibt could do was laugh heartily; there was always a slight twinge of jealousy when it came to Paul and Harvey, but that was illogical and Glibt knew it. It was better to ignore that and just appreciate the fact that the two seemed so completely happy; it was what he wanted for Harvey.
"I was a tad less shameless, but only because it was a different era." Glibt said lightly, taking another sip of his screwdriver and shaking his head ruefully. "Kids these days, honestly." With a fake roll of his eyes, Glibt set his drink down again.
"And, in regards to strippers? My official stance is that I don't want any at my bachelor party." Really, he should talk to Mark about that, figure out what they were both comfortable with. But strippers were traditional and Glibt did want his wedding to retain some sense of tradition. "But if you two should happen to surprise me, well, I can hardly be blamed for that, right?" With a mischievous little smirk, Glibt leaned against the counter again; yes, he would have to talk to Mark about quite a few things, but he was glad that Harvey had agreed to be his best man, if only to have his friend involved in his wedding. Strippers were just a bonus.