17 June 2011

Worst Bachelor Party Ever

What is it about being out and encountering bachelor/bachelorette parties that make us all revert into the most obnoxious version of our college selves? I’m ashamed to say this happened to me last summer. I was down at the shore for a long weekend with friends celebrating a few birthdays, one being mine so I should immediately get some sort of reprieve for my behavior. Well come to think of it, I wasn’t the one who got out of control, perhaps therein lies the problem.

Our first night down there, my friend Trina realized she forgot tequila for her margarita mix. I brought enough liquor to open a few libations mini-marts but I don’t drink tequila so I left that off my list of hooch to buy. We all went up to the rooftop deck/pool area with our coconut shaped plastic beverage cups and had a few cocktails watching the sunset then it was operation procure José.

We were still in our baiting suits and respective cover ups with the intention of getting the tequila, going home, ordering dinner/pregaming and getting ready to go out for the night. Unfortunately for the plan, this all went bust when Trina, after procuring the bottle of tequila, heard a bunch of guys cat calling down to our group and she insisted she needed to go to the bathroom right then and it had to be at that restaurant which was up on the 3rd floor of this building as if it were THE ONLY bathroom in the continental united states. We made our way up to this group of fools and of the 6 of us, 5 needed copious amounts of liquor before the meet and greet mingling went down, Trina was the exception and went right over to them.

Drinks were flowing, shots were downed then it was time to play ‘hi my name is…’ with the bachelor party. They had a private section of the rooftop deck and lots of beer – nasty brand but sometimes ya just have to man up and drink it when the situation is dire enough. I immediately got motor boated – it was not a welcomed gesture. My friend Trina had her ass smacked so hard there was a handprint on her ass check for 3 days and this all happened in front of father of the groom to be who then went on to lecture us about how we need to be ‘good girls.’ How about fuck yourself Pops McGee – teach your children not to hit and/or motor boat women who do not invite such gestures! It felt like a hot second of ‘Girls Gone Wild’-Gone Wrong. This whole gaggle of boys were between 21-26 years old and were NY Firefighters. I have the utmost respect for firemen and any type of service person but don’t use it to try to get laid when you reference 9-11 and you weren’t even old enough to be on the squad.

I decided I was over it and my friends seemed to be paired off with their respective douchebag for the evening, so I went back to the bar area and one of the groomsmen came out and started talking to me and by talking I mean turned it into a drunken make out session – it was sloppy at best. I pulled away and ordered a shot and he starts telling me his sob story. Mike was divorced and at the ripe age of 26, how could life be so cruel blah blah blah. I asked him why his marriage went bust after 5 blissful years according to him. He wanted kids and she didn’t and apparently never did – whoah how the hell do you gloss over one of the most critical convo’s of a proposed ever after? Between you and I, she was totally fucking someone else is what that translates to. I decided I was over it and ready to go home and I inform anyone who’s not fully engrossed in near fucking with their counterpart for the night and the one guy comes running after me – he was ‘the huge asshole in the white shirt.’ At least, this is what I had been told earlier in the night by my friend, something must have changed though because now she was ready to do the pants off dance off with him.

I preferred to still think of him as the asshole in white shirt because he was. So, he comes running after me with my friend it tow informing me that I’m ruining the night if I leave; um I fail to see how that makes sense and continue on my way after telling him off. I finally get back to the room and all of my friends go about their business crossing off some of the ‘most interesting places to have sex’ according to Maxim. The important thing to note about this entire debacle was that the tequila did in fact make it home after being left unattended for several hours and passed around to each of us to babysit for a while.

The following morning, we all convened for breakfast and I got to hear the tale of the crier, the guy who wanted an audience, the guy who thought he was now ‘in love with his soulmate’ and the guy who couldn’t do it in the shower. No one seemed overly thrilled with the conquest they now had on their resume so we decided to head to the bar with the floating rafts and drink our day away. As soon as we walk in to the bar, who should we see but the ENTIRE bachelor party from the night before and they all flock over to our group in a cock blocking manner as if they’re going to piss on us and mark their respective territory. My friends and I are not shy girls and they let it be known that they were in the ‘regret’ column and not the ‘repeat offender contender’ column.

Mike comes over to me asking why I wouldn’t touch his penis – REALLY? Um how bout because you just said penis to a lady HAHAH okay that’s not why but come on now let’s think about this – Mike is damaged goods and I’m not ruining my weekend of birthday beach fun with a guy literally dripping in FDNY attire to try to get attention with a splash of self loathing and an overdose of low self esteem. The guys insisted on loitering around my friends just close enough to try to pounce after a few too many rum runners. We’ll just leave it as we all made new friends who were much more fun to play with ;-)

Point of the conversation: Beware of the Bachelor parties because underneath all that Drakar Noir and Abercrombie (or in this case FDNY flair), they are all the bitter bridesmaid wishing it was them getting married.

- Scarlett

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