Over the weekend I shared in the event known as The Bachelorette Party. The bride-to-be, Chris, is to be married in June and as tradition dictates, it's a night of female bonding and shenanigans.
There are many components for a successful Bachelorette Party. Here, I will share a few tips:
First you need a willing Bride to Be.
Exhibit A: Chris.
(Oh, and a feather boa helps too.)
Next you will need a crew of fun ladies who are willing to break out the body glitter, dust off the low riders, bust out the Wonder Bras (geddit? "bust out the..."...oh, shut up.), and dance, drink, and laugh til we are sweaty, tipsy, and our stomachs ache.
Exhibit F-H: Dancing, Drinking, Laughing.
Starting the evening with dinner is always a good idea. This assures many things - like for example, food, which significantly reduces the chances of someone requiring their hair to be held back by night's end. Also it's an opportunity to talk to one another without screaming and replying "HUH?". Speaking of hearing each other, one of Chris's close friends from St. Louis, Fiona, came up for this. Fiona is originally from England and has been living in St. Louis for over two years. Though she is thought of as just "one of the girls", I think at times that we find her "exotic" (she uses words like "dodgey"!) because she is from across the pond. To wit: Fi was making use of her funky and slim I.D./credit card/key holder that fit nicely in her back pocket. In awe, someone said to her (whose name rhymes with "
keg" "booze"), "Wow, that's really cool. They should totally market those in the U.S." Fi plainly responded, in her adorable English accent, "I got it at Bed, Bath and Beyond". Poor Meg Suz. I mean, Keg Booze. We were dying. Fi has lived here for over 2 years, but have a "foreigner" produce something we've never seen before, and it must be from their homeland . Hee.
As is most girls wont, we like to dance. So after a few cocktails (including the newly invented Bachelorette Martini - which considering what's in it, is the martini's answer to the Long Island Ice Tea) we headed to The Alley. The Alley is 5 bars/nightclubs in, as yone might expect, an alley in Boston. It was remebered that another integral cog in the Bachelorette Party Machine is The Negotiator. For us, this was Keg/Meg. A big F'n THANK YOU to her, because due to her diligence, we got us to skip lines and cover charges. She should work for the U.N. Seriously. I don't know how she does it and none of us ask. And she doesn't pull the martyr act like she just drew the short straw. The woman takes PRIDE in this job. Did I mention the line we skipped - and the $10 she saved us - each? Yessss!
Once inside, it was dancing and ass slapping (of/by each other) and cocktails and looking amused and mardi gras beads and strangers trying to cop a feel and thoughts of, "oh, I really hope that is his cell phone pressed up against me" AND,what night would not be complete without a MECHANICAL BULL! Unfortunately, by the time we got the the place with said bull, it was not operating (it was rumored that someone puked on it.....lovely.). However, it was probably just as entertaining watching Chris's attempts to climb it. The visual: a mechanical bull, an airbed-type floor and Chris in heels and tight jeans. Trying to straddle the bull proved almost next to impossible as everytime she tried to push off the ground for momentum, her foot would sink deeper into the floor. Add an audience of hundreds of people watching you try this- yeah...no pressure. Finally, after four attempts she made it. Yeeee-haaaw!
Closing time and the ladies head out to wait for their chauffeur, Big J to give them a lift back to the Fancypants' place - the hostess of this fiesta. Though with her feet aching, Chris requested a piggyback to haul her ass up to the street. Fancy stepped up and proceded to carry her - at an incline - in her own heels, up the alley. At the very end of the alley and in front of a respectable sized audience - bit it. They toppled backwards on top of each other. A tangled mess of arms and legs and beads requiring some gentlemenly assistance to help them up.
OH, BUT HOW DO I WISH I HAD FILM THEN!
I would head back to my house, with the feet of a ballerina in training (note to self: NEVER wear new shoes when you are out for a night of dancing) and KERMIT THE FROG SKIN. Apparently, the heat and sweat from my skin meshed with the dye from the mardi gras beads and when I got home I had green skin around my neck and into my cleavage.
I will learn a few days later that interpretive dancing to Neil Diamond's ("Young's") Hello would continue until 4:00 a.m.
Now that is the definition of a successful Bachelorette party.