The Bachelor Party 2.0

So I’m back from another bachelor party. My role in this one was slightly different since I wasn’t a groomsman, but it was still crazy enough to warrant a second (but maybe not quite so epic) run down. You were all introduced to some of the characters in the last story, but some are more or less prominent this time around. In addition, we’ll be adding some new characters that played a major role. Of note, the driving force of last year’s craziness, CHP, was not able to attend because he was actually out enforcing the law. Anyway, here is a quick rundown of the returning characters from last year’s bachelor party:

Lefty: This was his bachelor party, and even though he is the groom this time around, he will be forever known as Lefty in all of my stories. There is not a person in the world who doesn’t like him. Though, in contrast to Bride from last year’s story, no one likes Lefty’s bride very much. His fiancée will be referred to as Blanket, as in Wet Blanket, since “Cheating Bitch” seems like it’d be a little too harsh (a side note, the dictionary describes a Wet Blanket as ‘someone who discourages enjoyment or enthusiasm”…yep, sounds about right).

Groom: Without CHP around, Groom knew he would have to be the one to force the action. Groom was the primary planner for this year’s party and was definitely looking forward to enjoying a bachelor party where he didn’t have to spend the entirety of it as the focus of CHP’s wrath for not drinking enough.

Stockton and Malone: The point guard and power forward of our basketball team, though Stockton took this year off since he couldn’t get up early enough to make it to our games. Stockton is short and tatted up like a Yakuza and has connections all over Vegas. Malone is the big baller when it comes to gambling. Both know how to drink and party with the best of them.

Macbook: He flew down from up North to participate in the festivities and can understatedly pull talent with the best of them.

Bride: Wife of Groom. She was in Vegas with her mom and sister and makes a very important cameo appearance later in the story.

Me: Your intrepid narrator and all around good guy. So let’s get started…

FRIDAY

When I was in New York, I got a call from Groom telling me I had to plan a way to get 5 guys (including Lefty) to Vegas. We discussed flying but realized it would be too expensive. We thought about separate cars, but there really is no fun in that. So ultimately we decided to rent a van. The 5 guys were to be me, Groom, Lefty, and two new important characters in this story. Redd, who when healthy, is the best player on our team and the purest shooter I have ever known in person. The problem is he is always hurt (like Michael Redd of the Milwaukee Bucks…a prolific shooter who always seems to be injured). I one time witnessed Redd tell Groom he would make 10 three pointers in Groom’s face in a row. Then he went out and did it. Made 11 for good measure. It was ridiculous. Another thing you should know about Redd is that he is a complainer. He complains about EVERYTHING. He also is groomsman for Lefty and they are very good friends. Oh, and Redd is a homophobe though he thinks he is not, so we love to freak him out by making gay comments. Finally, Redd and Groom have always had a contentious relationship sometimes getting along great and other times hating each other. Groom does not help things by smacking Redd’s ass and giving him hugs just to set off the homophobia. For this trip Redd was suffering from a bad back and a torn calf muscle so he was limping around and complaining the entire time.

The other new character was Eisely. I’m calling him Eisely since Howard Eisely was the long time backup to John Stockton, and Eisely stepped in for Stockton the last couple of years. He is a relatively new addition to our team and works with Redd. However, Eisely is almost the antithesis of Redd in that he is a big drinker, is always laid back and happy, and can competently handle himself around women. This would be the first time me, Groom, and Lefty hung out with him. After hearing some of our stories, he was definitely looking forward to this trip.

I went to pick up the minivan at the Enterprise 10 minutes away from my house. It was located inside a Power Toyota dealership, so I was hoping that meant I got to rent a Toyota Sienna (and say what you want about Toyota, but I still trust their vans more than Dodge, Chrysler, or Chevy….might drive a Ford though). I walked into the office and there was this hot Asian chick working at the counter. She wanted to know where we were going and made fun of me for taking a minivan to Vegas. I told her it was all about riding up in comfort. She said if she could ride up with us, she’d even ride in the trunk. I thought for a split second about saying there was room in the back seat, but felt that would come off a little too pervy. After informing her that the plan was for us to head to Tao nightclub at the Venetian, she recommended doing that Friday night and hitting a club called Excess at the Encore on Saturday night. She said that was the best way to find the hottest girls. Just by the look of her, I could tell she knew what she was talking about. I thanked her for the advice and she handed me the keys to….a Chrysler Town & Country. Fuck. We were going to die on the way to Vegas. I had to hurry up back home because I got a text from Lefty saying that they had arrived at my house. I showed up and counted four people and we still had to pick up Groom. Something was amiss. Then I realized I didn’t recognize one of the guys. It turned out to be one of Lefty’s high school friends, whom I’ll dub SBC (for Shot, Beer, Champagne….you’ll see why later).

This bachelor party was unique in that it featured two distinct groups of people: Lefty’s high school friends and the basketball team. And there is no crossover between the groups. Some of us had played cards together maybe once, but that was the extent of it. To make things more interesting, Lefty stripped planning duties from his best man and gave them to Groom. Groom being the guy he is, set up an expensive itinerary that ultimately ended up causing some of Lefty’s high school friends to drop out. I was worried that there would be some tension directed at us from the high school friends and it turned out that we would get our first test on the ride up. Somewhat surprisingly, SBC and groom seemed to get along well and I think SBC warmed up to Groom even more when we hit the liquor store. Our liquor store of choice is Bev Mo, a Walgreens-sized store filled with nothing but alcohol, and alcohol related goodness. Groom and I are literally card carrying members. The first item on the list a 1.75 liter bottle of Grey Goose (refer to them as “Handles” if you want to sound cool in front of the college kids). Second item: another 1.75 liter bottle of Grey Goose. Third item: two bottles of champagne. Fourth item: 6 cigars. Already in the car: cups, a 12 pack of sprite, 12 pack of coke, 12 pack of regular Red Bull, and a 12 pack of sugar free Red Bull. Total bill at liquor store: $275. Total number of people who picked up the tab: 2 (me and Groom). Total number of people happy with this decision: 4 (not me and Groom…though this would end up becoming a running theme). Now properly stocked for the trip, we hit the road giddy with anticipation.

I jumped on the freeway and for the first hour and a half, things were going great. We were probably averaging 80 mph and downing Red Bulls. In between conversations about work, we took our attempts at freaking out Redd, telling him that odds are he boxed out at least a few gay people on the basketball court. Finally, Groom goes into particular detail and causes Redd to start yelling at us and everyone else to hysterically laugh. This is a fun game. Lefty ends the fun by telling us that he needs us to stop at Barstow (the unofficial half way point) so he can pee. As we approach the exit I start to cut my speed from about 90 mph down to 55 mph. And the car starts to rattle. The harder I push the brakes the more it starts the shake. And the noise. The noise is tremendous. FUCK. WE ARE GOING TO DIE ON THE WAY TO VEGAS.

Okay, so obviously we didn’t die on the way to Vegas, but I had to be extra careful exiting the freeway. We headed over to the nearest restaurant/gas station type place that seem to always exist on the road to Vegas. As we were pulling in, there was this old (not just “older”…OLD) woman bent over by her car and it was painfully obvious that she was wearing a thong. This got a huge reaction out of the guys in the car and everyone was freaked out. We all agreed it was a sight we couldn’t unsee. We headed to the bathroom and it turned out there was a line for the two urinals and one stall. After Eisely and SBC finished, it was Lefty’s turn. Redd took the urinal next to Lefty about 30 seconds after Lefty got there. Then Redd finished. Then I went. Then I finished. And Lefty was still standing there. I left the bathroom and bought a snack. I glanced back over at the bathroom line, and Lefty was waiting at the end of it. I asked Redd what was wrong with Lefty, and apparently there were some issues with “performance anxiety”. There were even barriers between the urinals so it’s not like that was the issue. He chalked it up to pre-wedding jitters. The rest of us chalked it up to pre-wedding dread.

The remainder of the ride to Vegas was pretty uneventful except for the fact that The Hotel at Mandalay Bay is a bitch to actually get to, and once we got to the parking garage area, trying to find the valet was even harder. The Hotel is one of those fancy all suites hotels like the Venetian, Wynn, etc. and it was nice but definitely not worth the money we had to spend for a number of reasons (also, we tipped the valet $20 and he parked the van in front of the entrance like it was some awesome car). Each hotel room was twice the size of a regular hotel room, but didn’t feel like it, because it was broken up into a bedroom and living room. They overbooked, so we were unable to secure a room with two queen beds and had to settle for one king and get a roll away brought in. We also got stuck in a smoking room, since the idiotic hotel clerk told us that we could have 30^th floor rooms that were smoking or 10^th floor rooms that were not. Hotel rooms that allow smoking are gross so we opted for the 10^th floor. But because the clerk is a moron, she got the floors mixed up and we got stuck with smoking rooms. Too tired and too anxious to drink, we decided to just accept it. We put Lefty and SBC in a corner suite, Groom and I took a room down the hall, and Redd and Eisely took another room on the same floor but farther away. The rest of Lefty’s high school friends couldn’t afford to stay there so they stayed at the Flamingo. Stockton, Malone and Macbook wouldn’t make an appearance until later. Settled in, it was time to get down to business.

Tradition dictated that each member present take a shot of Goose with the bachelor. Despite being a groomsman, Redd immediately tried to get out of it. This immediately drew the ire of everyone in the room and he was forced to be the first person to take a shot with Lefty. Everyone else followed suit. Then it was time for a group shot. And we all took a shot together. Pretty soon we were all really buzzed and generally acting the way a bunch of pretty good friends would act when they are all buzzed and hanging out in the same hotel room: Stupid. Lefty was attempting to throw Red’s shoes on top of the TV stand and managed to shatter two glasses. This pissed off Groom to no end, since his credit card was the one that was on file for all three rooms. I set out to find more glasses and luck was on our side, because as soon as I stepped out of the room there was a housekeeping cart that was left unattended. On top were about 24 clean glasses. When I returned to the room, there were only 20. However, Groom had another problem as someone removed a “pleasure box” from the weighted tray table that also contained all the over priced food in each room next to the mini bar. The contents of the pleasure box were definitely not food. Nor were they cheap. Groom asked for another shot to ease the pain and Eisely, who was closest to the bottle of Goose, poured him one. Unfortunately for Groom, Eisely apparently sucks at pouring shots, since he poured Groom a three gulper. Definitely not the way you want to take shots. Triple shots will be forever known as “Eisely shots” amongst our group of friends.

We headed down to the casino floor to gamble and Lefty was already pretty wrecked from the 8 shots of vodka. I was feeling good and felt great as we came across an empty blackjack table. Even better, the table faced a four foot high stage with a ridiculously attractive woman dancing on it. The table was in the pit area and when the dancer reached our end of the seat, she was about three four feet away from the “first base” side of the table. Groom quickly snatched up that seat. I sat to the left of Groom and Eisely sat to the left of me. We started off playing pretty well and the dealer did a great job of keeping the atmosphere going. Finally, SBC joined the table after it had pretty much filled up and he was seated one spot away from third base. I don’t think he had any idea how to play but we were shouting instructions at him from across the table and he was winning so he was happy. This got all of the other players at the table involved, and as anyone who is a Vegas frequenter knows, a happy table is a good table. Well, it was a happy table for everyone but Groom who was getting killed. Finally, he got up to leave and I slid over a seat. Yes, I know you aren’t supposed to take over a cold blackjack seat, but that dancer was too hot and I couldn’t help but slide a couple of feet over. Cards be damned.

Me, Eisely, and SBC’s were pounding back Bud Lights (sadly no MGD or High Life available) and making all kinds of crude jokes and the dealer soon joined us in making comments that ranged from borderline to way over the line. For example, when someone got a blackjack by getting a facecard dealt to him first followed by an ace, she said, “I backdoored you, I’m sure this one felt better than the last time someone backdoored you”. Or, when the tip someone bet for her won, she told them (when instructing the player to let it ride) to “put her on top…that’s where I do my best work”. These comments went on for at least 15 minutes before Lefty showed up to admire the dancer. We told the dealer that he was the bachelor which ultimately set off a chain of events that would have repercussions that lasted well into the next night. The dealer pointed out Lefty to the dancer and the dancer went over to one of the poles on the stage and grabbed a string of beads (the kind you see at Mardi Gras) and tossed them to bachelor. Pretty soon all the guys at the table wanted beads and the dancer was tossing to them us like crazy. She even managed to toss a set of beads so perfectly, they landed right around my neck. Was it coincidence that I started winning after that? I think not. All of a sudden, SBC noticed the dealer’s name tag:

SBC: Wait, what is your name?

Dealer (Looking down at her nametag): Oh one of you finally noticed.

Me (with a bad angle, so I can’t see the nametag): What’s going on? I can’t see it.

Dealer (turning toward me and Lefty who was standing behind and to the left of me): It’s “BJ”. Remember the name bachelor, because this is about as close as you’ll be getting to one of those from now on.

The comment of course sets off the table into a loud “OOOHHHHHHH!!!”. Lefty, who is a touchy feely kind of drunk, collapses in mock tears on my shoulder. SBC who is apparently an uncoordinated kind of drunk spills his beer all over the table. Well we had active blackjack hands going and he managed to ruin the two cards in front of him which caused at least a 2 or 3 minute delay as the pit boss had to replace the cards. To kill the time, Eisely kept giving Lefty one dollar chips to toss at the dancer, and she would catch them and throw back some beads. A couple of hands later Lefty tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to the dancer. She was trying to get my attention and when I looked up, she tossed me a couple of strings of beads. I attempted to throw back a chip as a tip, but when I did I shorted it and it hit the ground. It was a throw reminiscent of our high school days when Mr. Khan hit a girl in the head with a bottle from about two feet away. Anyway, the guys at the table were accusing me of trying to make her leave the stage and come closer to me. It would’ve been a brilliant strategy, if it were only true. Sadly, I was just pathetic in that moment. As everyone was laughing at me, Eisely managed to knock over HIS beer and ruin a couple of more cards. We decided it was probably a good idea to leave the table at that moment and head back to Lefty’s room to meet up with a couple of his high school friends and to drink some more.

We get back to Lefty’s room and are joined by Redd and Groom who had been getting their asses kicked at poker. We are also joined by three more of Lefty’s high school friends: Stork (because he looks like a stork), Tiger (for a couple of reasons, but one is because his real name is Tony…you know, like Tony the Tiger), and 006 (the Trevelyan to our James Bond…he is the fiancée of the maid of honor, so do the math). Stork, Tiger and 006 all take shots with Lefty, and then Groom announces that it would be a good idea to drink champagne. I want nothing to do with champagne though as it makes me sick. Additionally, SBC and I had both brought our beers back to the room and now Lefty had a request for us: both of us were to down our beers and then immediately take a shot with him. I am hesitant to do this and start to mutter my disapproval when SBC cuts me off and says he’ll do it. Well fuck him then, so will I. I announce my intentions to the room and they all cheer. This is awesome. Someone counts backwards from three and at “one” the beer bottle is at my lips and I am chugging and hoping not to spill anything. I finish the beer, grab the shot, toast Lefty and down the shot. SBC is still finishing his beer. The crowd cheers again. THIS IS AWESOME. Finally, SBC finishes his shot and gets taunted. Groom breaks out the champagne but I stand my ground and refuse to drink it. “Well, you have to drink something”, I am told. So I make myself a Red Bull and Vodka, that oh so delicious drink from the first bachelor party. I toast with everyone else who has the champagne. I sip the concoction and immediately feel off. I am tasked with counting how many beads we collected (turned out to be 28) and did not exactly excel at the task. I feel sick. THIS IS NOT AWESOME. Finally, Groom announced that we should all go back to our respective rooms to get ready for dinner. As soon as Groom enters the bathroom to change, I chuck the entire mixture of Red Bull and Vodka into the sink in the living room. It’s barely 8 pm and if I don’t have another drink the rest of the night, that will be perfectly fine by me.

Dinner was at the Wynn buffet and it took two cabs to get us all there. Groom, Eisely, and I all took one cab. Me and Groom were talking and joking but Eisely was strangely quiet. We got to the buffet and shelled out like $45 per person and were seated at two separate tables. One table had SBC, Tiger, 006, and Stork. The other was me, Groom, Lefty, Redd, and Eisely. Only no one could find Eisely. He was with us when we walked into the buffet but now he was gone. We called him a couple of times and there was no response. Texted him, still nothing. Finally we just decided to go eat. My whole goal of the night was to carb up. We still had the strip club ahead of us, and I needed carbs to soak up as much of the alcohol as possible. I grabbed some rolls, pasta, pizza, and a small amount of prime rib. Everyone else hit up the crab legs. I did not care that I would be “wasting” my money by eating cheaper food, there was only one mission that night and that was to keep my food down. Finally, Eisely showed up. He was in the bathroom. Had trouble on both ends if you catch my drift. He also wisely stayed away from the seafood the rest of the night.

A couple of other moments from the dinner:

--About 10 minutes after Eisely returned from the bathroom, I heard a wretching noise from behind me. Apparently SBC threw up into a bowl that was sitting in front of him. Apparently the shot, beer, and champagne put him over the top. After throwing up, SBC passed out sitting up. Eisely, who was sitting in front of me and therefore had a clear view of the incident, turned a shade of white but managed to keep his food down.

--Tiger, Stork, and 006 were apparently unfazed by the vomit and kept on eating. When I asked Tiger about it later, he said they simply shrugged and continued to eat “Warrior Style”, whatever that means.

--Slightly behind me and to my right was a table full of semi-attractive to unattractive girls. This led to some lewd comments by Groom and Redd. I hoped to God they couldn’t hear us, but I knew they could.

--After dinner we were all waiting in a lobby type area of the hotel for Groom to finish throwing up, and Tiger would make comments about each attractive woman that would walk by. The comments were usually hilarious and spot on. They were also plentiful thanks to the talent level that is always present at the higher end hotels. There were a couple of ten out of tens there easily.

Finally, we were off to the strip club where we would also see some 10’s, but this time got to do more than just look….

We all piled into a limo and headed off to Sapphire. Why Sapphire when we went there last year? Because we know what we are getting without a doubt. Sure Olympic Gardens might have been the shit a few years ago, and Spearmint Rhino might be more well known, but I know Sapphire has quantity and quality. Though considering how wasted we got before we all went to the strip club, I debated in my head about suggesting a full nude place since we didn’t want to do any more drinking anyways (remember, full nude means no alcohol). Ultimately, perhaps for the sake of cleanliness more than anything else, we decided to stick with Sapphire. Also, Groom, Lefty, and I, already knew how the tricks of the trade at Sapphire and didn’t want to deal with a new set of ground rules. Oh, and one more thing. Sapphire is 71,000 square feet and Spearmint Rhino is something like 18,000. So there is plenty of room to separate yourself from other parties.

$40 cover charge to get in and another $80 a head for bottle service was about in line with what I spent the last time I was there, however it was about to get a lot more expensive. We had a semi-circle booth and Groom and I quickly grabbed a seat since the booth seats are the hardest places to get actively solicited. SBC also grabbed a seat in the booth. The other guys had to sit in the rolling chairs I described in my last story. To my left were Lefty, Redd and Eisely. SBC was sitting in front of me and to his right were Tiger, Stork, and 006. Groom had the best seat in the house, or so I thought, by being almost completely inaccessible to the strippers if he so chose. Pretty soon our waitress brought over our requisite bottle of Grey Goose along with mixers of Red Bull, Sprite, and ice water. I don’t think any of us even took a second look at the alcohol. We were all transfixed by the waitress. She looked like she was half asian, busty, and was the perfect mix of cute/pretty. I would’ve spent $100 right there for a lap dance from her. She spent her time chatting with me and Groom since we were the money men (as usual) and we were of course smitten. But we were also not stupid and knew the game that was going on, so we dismissed her when she asked if we wanted an additional bottle of Goose (there was no way we were going to finish the first one).

Strippers are like bloodhounds when it comes to money, and soon enough, despite all the barriers we set up, we literally had strippers climbing over seats to get to us. I was saved momentarily when Redd bought me a dance from a Vietnamese girl who was pretty good, but nothing spectacular. It was a good warm up dance for sure though. After the dance she spent a couple minutes talking to me and then asked if I wanted to go again. I instead paid $20 to return the favor to Redd (later on, I found he bought the dance for me because he didn’t want her to dance for him…asshole sent me his unwanted leftovers). After the stripper left me I looked up and noticed that SBC was passed out in the seat. I turned to Groom to make a snide comment only to see two strippers, a blonde and a brunette (both slightly above average by Sapphire standards) sitting on his lap unbuttoning his shirt, kissing him, and whispering in his ear. I gave him a thumbs up and before I turned away, one of the strippers grabbed me and forced me to slide over. Now, I am obviously very good friends with Groom, but not close enough to be sitting inches away from him as we both get molested by girls. Feet away? Sure. But not inches. That’s too close. Anyways, before it progressed too far I found out the reason the stripper had pulled me in that direction. The two had a proposition for us: $400 to take Lefty into the back room and double team him.

Now these two had played the game well. They are sitting on our laps in nothing but the skimpiest of thongs, whispering all kinds of things in our ears, and we are feeling just awkward enough to want out. We relented and the blonde grabbed Lefty while the Brunette waited to collect the money. As we each counted out $200, the brunette had one more proposition for us:

Stripper (trying to get our attention): Hey! Hey!

Groom: Yeah?

Stripper: If I get your friend to blow his load in his pants, how much will you tip me?

Me and Groom (looking at each other shocked)………

Me: I don’t know, I mean….

Stripper (pulling the front of her thong down): Come on! I’ll even let you put your money in here

Groom: 50 bucks.

Stripper: 50 bucks!! That’s it?

Groom: Fine. $100.

Stripper: Deal! Just don’t tell the other girls about this.

I paid her the $400, but DID NOT put it where she initially requested. Just remember this story guys, when people say money is not clean. After she walked away, I turned to Groom and asked him how in the FUCK we were going to find out if the strippers were successful. His response: Just see if Lefty comes back walking funny. Either way, we decided to collect the $100 from everyone else. The other guys wanted to know what it was for and where Lefty went. I just told them that the money they threw in helped cover it.

While Lefty was back getting who the hell knows what done to him, we had strippers converging on us like crazy. 006 refused to keep getting solicited so he got up to walk around. Stork looked awkward the whole time and Tiger would make crude hand gestures and comments as other guys got lap dances, but when it was time for him to talk to a stripper he chickened out. Redd was getting a really aggressive lap dance, and the stripper had her hands in his shirt. When she got up, his button down shirt was half open, and the wife beater underneath was torn to shreds and he had scratch marks on him. The words “Holy Shit” came out of my mouth, I believe. Eisely being the nice guy he is, was simply talking with a stripper for about 10 minutes and she looked like she had no desire to get up and leave him. Groom was getting extra friendly with a stripper on his lap, and when Redd not so subtlety reminded him about his wife, Groom announced, “I’m married, I can do whatever I want”. When I responded by saying, “um, I don’t think that’s how it works”, he just said that’s how it works for him. Though he never did (and I don’t think he would ever do) anything that would seriously endanger his marriage, I was worried for a split second. I would’ve stopped him, but it wouldn’t have been easy.

I assessed our alcohol situation and realized we only drank about 1/3 of the bottle of Goose, yet we had gone through about 4 bottles of ice water. And I knew why. That ice water was DAMN good. I felt like I was basically dehydrated so I pretty much drank a bottle by myself. Of course, this had the side effect of making me have to go to the bathroom. When I left, SBC was passed out; when I came back he was most definitely not. My biggest fear in dealing with SBC was that we would have another Slappy on our hands. After all, both were skinny Chinese dudes who had had way too much to drink and had thrown up at inopportune times in inopportune places. However, SBC seemed content to sleep the strip club away rather than almost get us tossed out. That is until two strippers sat on his lap simultaneously and woke him up. For the next 25 minutes one of us would every so often catch a glimpse of him between the two writhing women. Mostly we just saw lots of legs, hands, breasts, and ass. Later on we found out he dropped over $100 just buying himself dances. Hey, there are worse ways to spend your money.

Lefty came back about 45 minutes after he left, and when we asked him how it was, he just had a funny smile on his face, and said “good”. Groom paid the $100 we had collected from the other guys, and the night continued on for the next hour or so relatively uneventfully. Some guys bought me dances and I of course returned the favor. Most of the dances were of the usual variety, but then Eisely bought me a dance from the best looking girl I had seen all night. She spent about 5 minutes talking to me before she even started dancing, and I was infatuated for sure. Then the dancing started and it was crazy. First she started off facing me, which is always awkward because, well, this is the one place where you don’t actually have to make eye contact in a situation like this. Of course, this dilemma is solved when your face is buried in her chest and even if you want to lean back, you can’t because you are already as far back as you can go. Another awkward part (for future reference) is where to put your hands. I don’t want to get my ass kicked so I usually put them at my sides, or on a girl’s legs (when she is facing me) or hips (when facing away from me), depending on the girl. It’s almost a no win situation. I feel like too much touching is creepy, and no touching at all makes her think you aren’t into it. When my stripper faced away from me, my hands had already been on her legs to begin with so I left them there as she spun around. Suddenly she grabbed both of my hands, and I thought for sure I was dead. As I was waiting for her to either get pissed at me or call a bouncer over, she instead took both of my hands and placed them directly on her…chest. Definitely a “cover 2” defense right there. She leaned back and asked me if I liked the Sapphire special. Um, yes. Definitely, yes. She continued dancing (dancing really really isn’t the right way to describe it, but in an effort to keep this from getting any dirtier, we will call it dancing) in that position until the song ended and said she was going on break and would be back later. I was thankful that she did, because I would’ve bought dances from her all night.

A little later on, we got Lefty one more dance, and the stripper took her bra off and tossed it on Eisely’s lap. He just held it up to show all of us and had a goofy grin on his face. Then the stripper that had left me and gone on break came over to Eisely and, as Redd slipped her $20, she really went to town. After Lefty’s stripper finished basically molesting him in his seat, Eisely was the only one who was still getting a dance. The rest of the strippers were starting to leave us alone, and I wondered if it was because they figured we were tapped out since guys like Tiger, Stork, and 006 basically bought no dances the whole night. Not that we were complaining since we had already spent too much cash, and we saw three horrific sights. The first was a stripper who we were almost sure was pregnant. The second was a stripper that looked like she had the hardest set of fake boobs ever. I’m not joking when I say that a motorboat from her would probably knock you unconscious. Finally, there was a scantily clad woman walking around offering massages. The problem was it looked like she was in her 40’s. Apparently she was good though, because she walked up to Redd, placed two hands on his shoulders, squeezed, and he practically melted. She shouldn’t have been dressed like that though.

Our hot half-asian waitress showed up since she could tell we were winding down. We had drunk 75% of our bottle of Goose, though I had only had a glass. Groom tried to get the waitress to dance for him but she politely declined. We tipped her and she started to clean things up a bit. The stripper on Eisely’s lap was finishing up, and I thought we were ready to go when Eisely reached into his wallet and took out money for another dance. Some guys jeered him, but I couldn’t blame him. The Sapphire Special was just that good. After watching him execute the cover 2 defense one more time, we really did decide to call it a night. We limoed it back to The Hotel and tried to get to our rooms but a club promoter stopped us on our way. He was willing to let us into Mandalay Bay’s club for free. We were all tempted for a moment, but when he mentioned a couple of free drinks we decided to call it a night. I never thought free alcohol would cause me to not do something, but we got too drunk too fast and now were paying the price. Sobering up at a strip club is never fun. Turning down free admission and drinks to a club is worse. As we staggered back to our rooms at 3 AM, Eisely declared that he was in love. I said I was too, but it was his fault, since he bought her for me to begin with. “Two friends, and the stripper who came in between them!” someone from behind us declared. We all laughed. Okay, so maybe we hadn’t entirely sobered up yet. Either way, it was time to crash. And when I got back to the room, crash I did. A roll away bed never felt so good in my life...

The Wedding....

The Wedding

So generally there is a code of silence that goes along with bachelor party happenings. Guys generally don’t talk about it, and they certainly don’t write about it. So I hope to God that no one besides people in Florida read this. Of course, I had dinner with Bride, Groom, CHP, and a couple of bridesmaids three weeks ago and CHP got drunk enough to spill some details. I think it went over okay, but I haven’t heard from Groom since then, so who knows. Alright, so the wedding…..

The Wedding was about a month after the bachelor party, and was to be an elaborate affair. 200 guests were invited, and it was held at the famous Fess Parker Hotel in Santa Barbara. For those of you who don’t know, Santa Barbara is famous for two things (three if you count the show Psych): The beach and the parties. So the place clearly had potential for all kinds of craziness, some of which materialized, and some of which did not. Santa Barbara is about 2.5 hours away from Irvine with light traffic, and as a Groosman I had to attend the rehearsal dinner, so that meant two nights at the most famous hotel in Santa Barbara over a weekend. Wonderful. The regular room price was $450 a night, but people with ties to the wedding got a break and we only had to spend $300 per night. Considering the hotel room in Vegas was less than $600 total for three nights, this seemed outrageous. But, there was nothing I could do about it, so I was determined to make the most out of it.

Friday

Much like the start of the bachelor party, I left Irvine around noon and headed up the 405 to pick up CHP. This time he was located in what Californians like to call “The Valley”, about 1.5 hours away from Irvine. More specifically, I picked him up at his parents’ place in Chatsworth, porn capital of the United States. We would be without our third running mate Lefty, who was driving up the day of the wedding with his fiancée, so I thought the vibe would definitely be different. Of course, as soon as I got to CHP’s house we fell into our familiar groove when he said, “first thing we need to do, is go get alcohol”. I quickly agreed and we headed off to the local Bevmo, a liquor store that is about 1.5 times the size of a typical Walgreens (and a place at which we are both literally, card carrying members). We loaded up on Grey Goose, Rum, assorted mixers, and giant cans of some kind of cider. I had barely consumed any alcohol since the bachelor party, so to say that I was looking forward to drinking again was a bit of an understatement. We hit the road ready for an hour long drive up the coast of California. We had barely entered the freeway when events from the bachelor party were brought up:

CHP: Hey, do you think Slappy is pissed at me?

Me: Because of the bachelor party?

CHP: Of course because of the bachelor party! I think he really likes SC.

Me: Well if you knew that, then why’d you do what you did?

CHP: Seriously? I mean, you think I was just gonna turn it down?

Me: Fair enough.

CHP (slightly panicked): Wait, is she coming to the wedding?!

Me: At the bachelor party she told me she probably wasn’t.

CHP: FUCK! She better not. My girlfriend is coming up tonight.

Me (surprised, but not really): Oh, so you’re back together?

CHP: For now….Oh, whatever happened with you and Aspen?

Me: Um, she lives in Colorado, so nothing. I mean, we exchanged e-mails for a little while but that’s died out. Not much to talk about….

CHP: Yeah, that makes sens—HOLY SHIT IS THAT THE RUSSIAN?!!!!

So this is what happened. We had been conversing when we pulled up behind a BMW convertible with the top down. In the driver’s seat was a guy that looked like The Russian. At least as much as we could tell from behind. However, we weren’t entirely sure because we knew Russian hadn’t bought a new car recently, and this car had no rear license plate. Also, there was what looked to be a fairly attractive girl riding shotgun, another rare occurrence for The Russian. The odds seemed ridiculously high that we’d just happen to run across him on a 10 lane freeway at that exact moment considering all of the variables. I mean, if we spend one minute more or less at Bevmo, we never even see him. But it really did look like him. CHP started screaming at me to pull up next to him, so I did. I should mention that I was driving my brother’s Honda CRV, since Groom said he might need the extra trunk space for gifts. When I finally got along side him, we saw that sure enough, it was The Russian. And to make things better, he hadn’t noticed us yet.

This was not going to end well for The Russian, of this much I was sure. The only way it could be worse for him was if I had Groom in my passenger seat (who would undoubtedly drop his pants and moon The Russian). As it was, CHP was practically giddy over the possibilities. As we pulled even with the car, we could see The Russian was engaged in a deep conversation with the girl, clearly trying to impress her. He was looking at the road just as much as he was looking at her. So CHP unbuckled his seatbelt, rolled down his window, and leaned out of the window (saying “leaned” doesn’t really do it justice, he was bent at the waist with his whole torso sticking out of the car) and started making all kinds of crazy motions. At first neither one of them noticed CHP (they must’ve really been into each other), but then suddenly the girl’s eyes got as wide as saucers and she turned even whiter than she already was. I think she was about to scream when The Russian noticed the look on her face and turned and saw us. He started laughing so hard I thought he would crash his car, but the girl looked PISSED. I mean, I could understand her being upset. Imagine you are driving on the freeway while a car pulls up next to you and some random guy is hanging out of the window making all kinds of obscene gestures at you. Still, pissed was not an attractive look for her.

CHP: Dude, from far away, I thought she was hot.

Me: Me too.

CHP: But she’s got a huge nose!

Me: Well, he is a Jew.

CHP: True. Well, I’m not done messing with them yet. Do you have paper and a pen in here somewhere?

I actually had a pen and the directions to CHP’s house as well as the hotel, so CHP began to go to work. All kinds of vulgar signs were created and displayed in my window. However, the last one (“KISS HER!”) got us an unexpected eyeful. The Russian pulled in front of us, slowed down, and then he and Honker (see what I did there?) started making out. At first, CHP and I started laughing, but as it kept going we were disgusted. Finally, CHP told me to pass them. I went one lane over and tried to pass them but The Russian kept speeding up. This frustrated CHP who screamed “GOOOOO!” and then reached over, put his hand on my knee and shoved it down and forward making me literally floor the accelerator. The 9 year old CRV rumbled past them at around 100 MPH and we left them behind as we headed into a narrower part of the freeway with the ocean to our left and high cliffs to our right. We were within the city limits of Santa Barbara.

Our first order of business was finding a place to eat so we could begin our alcohol prep of 2 Pepcid AC’s and a Zyrtec. We planned to begin drinking as soon as we got to the hotel. We grabbed some Quizno’s on a road called State Street. It ran from the ocean to UC Santa Barbara and was literally blocks and blocks of bars. We kept this in mind for later. When we finally got to the hotel, we saw that it definitely lived up to its reputation. Less of a hotel and more of a sprawling campus of rooms, it had the feel of a Spanish villa more than anything else. None of the buildings were taller than three stories so as to keep the horizon in view as best as possible. Groom was in the expansive lobby and after checking in, we immediately asked him to go drink. He sighed and said he couldn’t because he was waiting for Bride to arrive. We told him to join us later if he could, but for now to send Slappy over.

I dropped my stuff off in my room and headed over to CHP’s so we could start drinking. He was already ahead of me and had one of his two bathroom sinks filled with ice and the cans of cider. He took a shot with me and we started drinking rum when there was a knock at the door. It was Slappy. I ushered him in, gave him a shot and asked him straight up if he was pissed at CHP. He said not anymore. We drank in honor of that and then got called to go help unload stuff from Bride’s car. Before I left, CHP conducted a sobriety test on me, reminding me that this was not Vegas and public intoxication laws were not so lax. I failed the sobriety test. Oh well.

Bride was not exactly thrilled to see that we had been drinking, and ended up not entrusting us with anything important to carry (intoxication has its advantages). As a result, we went to the bar where we met up with The Robot and The Russian who explained that Honker was not too happy with us. Everyone drank to that and I was now pretty drunk. This was not a good thing as we were instructed to report to the wedding rehearsal which was at the wedding site located at the far end of the lobby, outdoors in a ridiculously scenic open-aired rotunda. I was informed that me and my bridesmaid were to be the first people of the actual wedding party to enter the ceremony. We had to walk about 100 feet from the exit of the lobby, pivot about 70 degrees and continue for another 150 feet to the front dais, and we had had to do it arm in arm. Well my bridesmaid was at least 8 inches shorter than me, meaning her steps were obviously much smaller than mine. I’d have to concentrate pretty hard not to drag her down the aisle if I was sober. Drunk, it was a near disaster. She had to keep harshly whispering “SLOW DOWN!”. But as bad as I was, CHP was 10 times worse. And once we got everyone standing on the dais, he kept swaying, hugging The Robot or leaning on The Russian. Luckily Groom’s parents have known him forever. I don’t think Bride’s parents were too impressed though. Other than that, the rest of the rehearsal went fine, and we were ushered to the front of the hotel where we were supposed to meet limos to take us to the rehearsal dinner.

Well, we got limos alright. Though they were about 20 years old, white, and had colorful advertising all over them. I quickly deemed them NASCAR limos and everyone agreed. The limo ride over was pretty crazy. There were three groomsman, three bridesmaids, and the wedding planner and her husband (Neighbor, who made a brief cameo in the bachelor party story). CHP drunkenly called his girlfriend who was on her way up after work and started screaming at her because she was going to be late to the rehearsal dinner. Then he told her the wrong room number and generally made an ass out of himself in front of 5 people who barely knew him. It was not one of his finest moments.

The rehearsal dinner was (surprisingly) American food buffet style and there were a lot more people than I though there would be. All of Bride and Groom’s extended family were there, and the significant others of the bridesmaids, as well as some random other people. All told there were at least 80 people dining on the second floor patio of a seafood restaurant overlooking the ocean. Everything was paid for by Groom’s parents including the drinks. But while CHP began ordering up round after round and acting crazy, I did not. I was sobering up, and in an environment with that many people I didn’t know, I planned to stay that way. Pretty soon CHP’s girlfriend showed up, took one look at him and immediately cut him off. This made him angry but after they finished eating, she apologized for his behavior to Bride, and dragged him out of the restaurant. Witch CHP gone, Lefty not due in until tomorrow, and Groom attending to groom type duties I was pretty much left without drinking partners.

I only ever drink with people. I mean, alcohol is just one giant social crutch for me, so what the hell is the point for me to drink alone? Plus, once you start drinking alone on a consistent basis, its all just downhill from there.

After Bride and Groom finished doing their toasts, the bridesmaids got up and toasted the bride and groom. The remaining groomsman looked at each other, no one made the first move and so an awkward moment went by where everyone expected us to do a toast, and none of us did. At that moment I wished I had been drinking more. People started to leave and it was only 8:30 at night. I wondered what the hell I was going to do for the rest of the night. I had planned on a night of drinking with CHP and the rest of the groomsman, but now that he was gone it looked like the night might fizzle out. I was scared to get drunk with Slappy, The Russian brought Honker, and The Robot wouldn’t stay out if The Russian didn’t.

Just as I was starting to get a little depressed, I heard a loud commotion and someone triumphantly shouting their entrance to the patio. I turned and saw Stockton, Malone, and Macbook enter the restaurant. I had no idea that they were coming up the day before the wedding, and their arrival was definitely uplifting. Those goofy handshake, half hug things were exchanged all around and pretty soon some drinking started. Groom took the brunt of it and had to leave to throw up. Bride asked The Robot to take Groom home, so they left. By this time all of the families had left as well as the bridesmaids. Stockton and Malone started smoking which resulted in Honker giving them the evil eye and declaring that she hates the smell of smoke. So the Russian had to leave as well.

Malone’s wife, who I’ll call Cheerleader (since she comes to all of our games, and could in fact pass for an Asian cheerleader) also came. I have a lot of respect for Cheerleader as she is an attorney and works for a pretty prestigious firm, yet also can party just as hard as Stockton and Malone. So the six of us got plastered with Groom’s dad and a couple of his relatives. Finally, the relatives left and it was just us younger people that drinking. Then we noticed that Groom’s parents were just sitting at a far table half asleep and we realized they were waiting for us to finish drinking so they could close out the tab but they didn’t want to cut us off. Of course, this made us feel like crap and we decided to leave after apologizing profusely and giving them much thanks.

Macbook booked a room at a different hotel and decided to head back to his room where he left his girlfriend. Slappy and I discussed the fact that we should probably head back to the room but when we told that to Stockton he was pissed. And we got peer pressured into staying out and drinking more. Our first plan was State Street but it was too far away to walk. I mentioned that CHP had liquor in his room so we decided to take bike cabs (where some dude on a bike pulls a cart with a seat behind him). On the way to the bike cab station, I am talking with Cheerleader and we are having a pretty spirited conversation when she cuts me off:

Cheerleader: You know I’ve been coming to your games for like 5 years now.

Me: Yeah, that sounds about right.

Cheerleader: And yet before tonight, you’ve never talked to me.

Me: I went to your wedding.

Cheerleader: But you didn’t talk to me there either.

Me: In fairness to me, I wasn’t drunk at your wedding. Nor am I drunk when I play basketball.

Cheerleader: So you’ll only talk to me when you’re drunk?

Me: No. I only talk to new people when I am drunk. You are not a new person anymore, so I’ll talk to you from now on.

Cheerleader: Well alright then.

Social crutch indeed. Although I do talk to new people even when I am not drunk, they have to initiate conversation with me, otherwise it’s probably not happening.

Obviously it took two bike cabs to transport us, and Stockton, Malone, and Cheerleader were in one cab and me and Slappy were in the other. Malone’s cab was about 30 feet in front of us, and suddenly Malone yelled back to me, “Rich! Tits or ass?” Remember, this is out in the open, with people walking all over the place, so I was not sure if I should yell out either one. I finally yelled back “Both!”, and the cab driver said that was a good answer. Then Cheerleader yelled back, “Well we know which one Slappy prefers!” Apparently bachelor party stories aren’t all sacred. As we approached different signal lights, Stockton, Malone, Cheerleader, and their cab driver/pedaler asked various pedestrians (guys and girls) their preference of tits or ass. This being a college town, some of the answers were very inventive, and even our cab driver started to get in on it. When we finally got back to the hotel we called CHP but he didn’t pick up. We called again, but he still didn’t pick up. We decided that this was unacceptable and headed towards his room, but not before stopping along the way and kidnapping Groom and The Robot. Both of them were watching TV and definitely looked ready to turn in for the night and initially resisted coming out. We wouldn’t take no for an answer though, and with our increased numbers we stalked off to CHP’s room, and that was when the craziness truly began:

-We arrive at CHP’s room and knock on the door but no one answers. I call him but he does not pick up. Being that close to unobtainable alcohol means frustration sets in, and Stockton and Malone take turns pounding on CHP’s door for 5 minutes straight. Literally. I keep calling every 10 or 15 seconds (later I found out that he had 22 missed calls from me) and everyone else mills around looking like they can’t believe we are causing this kind of ruckus at midnight in this nice hotel. I keep thinking it is a miracle that the people in the rooms next to CHP haven’t come out to yell at us.

-After getting no response from CHP we head back to Stockton, Malone, and Cheerleader’s room. They have a suite that easily fits all of us and Stockton calls Macbook to let him know that he might have to make a liquor store run. As that conversation is going on, I make one last call to CHP who actually answers! I yell at him not to hang up and explain our situation. Me, Stockton, and Malone take off for CHP’s room and drag him and the alcohol back to the suite. On the way back an attractive woman enters a hotel room and inside we see three or four other attractive women and at this moment Malone shoves me towards the door and it thankfully(?) shuts right before I hit it.

-Once we start drinking things of course get pretty loud. Someone mentions that it would be fun to have The Russian here, so we convince Groom to call him and tell him to bring Groom’s tux (which The Russian brought to the wedding) to the suite. When he shows up, he looks stunned to see all of us and tries to leave before we make him drink. But Malone and CHP prevent him from doing so by wrestling him to the ground three separate times in a clash of the titans:

Round 1: The Russian is standing in the main section of the suite, CHP is standing right in front of the door and Malone is in between them. There is a narrow hallway that leads from the main section to the door so that means The Russian can’t go around them, but rather has to go through them. The Russian charges and Malone hits him high. They are dead even for a second before The Russian tosses Malone to the side. Clearly going high on The Russian won’t work. Before he can make any progress though, CHP crashes into him chest to shoulder and knocks him to the ground.

Round 2: As a result of the last confrontation, Malone is guarding the door and CHP is directly in front of The Russian. CHP tries to go high again and The Russian throws him down. But before The Russian can get up a head of steam, Malone goes low and takes The Russian’s legs out from under him.

Round 3: CHP and Malone are arranged in the order of Round 1. Malone again tries to go low, but The Russian anticipates and muscles him to the ground. CHP comes charging in, but The Russian puts him into a wall and lunges for the door. He gets it about a foot open before Malone comes flying out of nowhere and throws his full weight against the door slamming it shut. This was The Russian’s best effort and he knows it. He has nothing left and agrees to drink with us.

-Of course it was a miracle that no one was hurt, but their actions were not without consequences, and we got a noise warning from the hotel. At this point we decided to take our party to the bar in the lobby. Stockton nearly gets in a fight with the bartender when they tell him its hotel policy not to serve shots. After we calm him down, we order a round of drinks and then another. By the third round when the bartender hands Groom his drink, it falls right out of Groom’s hand and crashes to the ground. After that we decided it was time to call it a night. On the way back to our rooms, a group of Groomsmen for another wedding are sitting in the lobby with a cooler full of alcohol and attempt to fight us. We manage to avoid confrontation and crash for the night.

Saturday

We had to be in The Robot’s room by 11 AM to get our makeup done. Yes, I said makeup. Believe me I had no idea we would be wearing makeup until we got the wedding schedule two days before the wedding. I felt like crap even after I showered and stumbled over to The Robot’s room. When it was my turn to get my makeup done, the makeup lady took one look at me and said, “man, I can tell you were out late last night”. I mean, I usually have bags under my eyes anyways, but it was even worse that day. She did the best she could to make me look half decent and sent me on my way.

Drinking before the wedding was strictly forbidden by Bride so I was relatively quiet for all of the pre-wedding stuff that went on. Nothing eventful happened except for the fact that Groom kept yelling out that he was prettier than Bride. The wedding was pretty much a normal wedding with some Asian twists (drinking sake during the ceremony), and my bridesmaid said she was pleased that I didn’t drag her all the way to the platform. This all of course leads to the wedding reception…which had an open bar.

As a gift for each of the groomsman, Groom got us all personalized Nike ID basketball shoes. On the back of the shoe, it had a sort of nickname he gave each one of us. Mine said “Enforcer”. I was pleased. The shoes were a bright light blue, and Bride gave us permission to wear them during the reception which of course was great, and actually got the groomsmen a lot of attention and photographs. The wedding party had to wait outside of the reception hall to make what was deemed a “Grand Entrance”, something I was not told about before hand. We would be entering the reception hall in pairs and cross the dance floor where, we were told, we were supposed to dance with our partner in front of the 200 or so guests. I was the first groomsman in line, and I was not happy. CHP magically appeared with alcohol for me to drink but it wasn’t enough. I told my bridesmaid that I was not nearly drunk enough to dance, and she warned me that I better do something, to at least strut in with her, because she was going to bust a move when she got out there. Before I could do anything to attempt to get out of this (like fake a heart attack), my bridesmaid and I were introduced and the song “Sexy Back” started playing. This was going to be horrible. We entered arm in arm and I did my best to strut but I had no idea what I was doing. As we crossed the dance floor she started dancing (actually pretty well), and I did the only thing I could do: I took a step or two back and extended an arm in her direction as if I was directing the audience’s attention toward her. The crowd applauded its approval and I was thankfully off the dancing hook…for now.

Before dinner, there was the traditional father daughter dance with some sappy song going on. Then all of a sudden the music changed to Soulja Boy and Bride and her father started doing the Soulja Boy Superman dance. Then they transitioned back to the sappy song at the end. When I say this was totally unexpected, I mean no one knew, not even Bride’s mother. This had everyone in tears we were laughing so hard (imagine a Chinese man in his 60’s doing that dance). Even the DJ was cracking up. When it was over, they of course got a standing ovation. I thought there was no way Groom could ever top that. I was wrong.

Groom and his mom didn’t even make an attempt at dancing to some sappy song. They instead jumped right into Michael Jackson’s Thriller. And while that got a roar of approval, it got even better when all of a sudden Groom’s sister and a bunch of his cousins jumped on the dance floor and they all danced like in the graveyard scene of the music video. They also got a standing ovation. I later found out that he wanted the Groomsmen to do it too, but wisely thought better of it.

The bar was located on the patio just outside the reception hall, and this is where the bachelor party guys had a fateful reunion and took a ridiculous amount of shots. There was also a photo booth next to the bar, and we crammed the entire wedding party (12 people) into a regular sized photobooth. It was a tight fit, but at least there were relatively attractive girls in there with us. The next photo we crammed anyone who ever played on our basketball team inside (10 guys) and held up self made signs that had all kinds of vulgarities on them. Then CHP went and took some very disturbing photos in the photobooth all by himself. I should mention that there was a monitor outside the photobooth so we could all see what was going on in there. They are images that will forever be burned into my mind unfortunately.

The bartender did not have Grey Goose, and that seemed almost unreal considering Groom’s allegiance to that particular brand of vodka. So I was stuck when trying to come up with a mixed drink (holding off on the shots for the moment). I was already at 8+ drinks so I wasn’t thinking that quickly, when the most attractive bridesmaid slapped me on the back of the head and told me to take a sip of her drink: Maker’s Mark and Coke. It was outstanding. I had never had it before, but it was just different enough from Jack and Coke for me to find the taste refreshingly new. With Grey Goose and Red Bull unavailable, I would lean on a Maker’s and Coke (with the occasional shot of Tequila thrown in) in order to drink the night away.

10 months later and I am adding some final thoughts, though that line would be a pretty fitting end to the write up.

-At one point in time I was dancing with people. I don’t really remember who I was dancing with, but I was dancing. Keep in mind, I was at least 15 drinks in by this point.

-Stockton and Malone thought it would be a good idea to wear their ties on their head, and pretty soon the entire basketball team was doing it. The problem was, all the Groomsmen had to wear clip on ties so we had a hell of a time getting them to stay on our heads. That’s when Cheerleader stepped in to help out. I soon started calling her an expert and was convincing all the Groomsman to line up and get tie serviced by her. We even got Bride’s dad to do it too. We definitely looked awesome.

-With about 30 minutes left in the sanctioned part of the night, I was sitting in a chair resting when Malone grabbed the end of my tie and forcibly dragged me out of the chair and onto the dance floor. I got thrust into the middle of a circle and got bounced around by people who wouldn’t let me escape. Luckily a friend of ours got thrown in and I snuck out when he started doing the Carlton dance from Fresh Prince. The DJ realized this and quickly threw on the “Jump on It” song which resulted in literally the entire dance floor doing the dance. Yes, even me.

-Finally it was time to say goodbye to the actual wedding. But not the night. A few of us decided to head out to O’Mally’s bar on State Street for more drinking and dancing. I drank beer in order to sober up and danced with some girls that CHP brought over until I was sober enough to be mortified by my actions.

-At about 2AM the night started dying out and we all decided we needed food. Pizza. Seven of us managed to stumble out of the bar and buy two large pizzas from an all night pizza shop. Total Damage: $80. No joke. We got van cab and the driver laughed at us for paying so much money for the pizza. I couldn’t blame him.

-We made it back to the hotel and grabbed some table in the already closed bar and ate our expensive pizza. Everyone was exhausted and for the most part we were all pretty quiet. When the last slice was eaten, someone said, “Well, I guess that’s it”. And with that, we all went our separate ways. I was finally relieved of my Groomsman duties and for the most part I was happy to be done with the whole thing. But damn did I have a good time.