Oh, man am I hungover. My head is pounding and my tongue is as dry as my humor. I don’t remember a lot about last night but I do recall how it began. It all started when I got off the N train at 57th Street and headed right to the Hooters on 56th Street with all my buddies. I must admit that I already had a little bit of a buzz when I got off the train because I had been pre-gaming at home with PBR’s while watching a basketball game that I had DVR’d. Maybe it was a little early to start drinking, but it’s not every day that a guy is celebrating his bachelor party is it? Yes, I am getting married on Monday and yesterday was my day to sow some wild oats, cut loose and live it up as a bachelor one last time. And where else to start a bachelor party than Hooters? I mean some people go abroad for their bachelor party, but really how good could a party in Poland be compared to Hooters?
As soon as I walked in, I ordered the Gourmet Chicken Wing Dinner that comes with a bottle of of Dom Perignon. I asked for the 9-1-1 sauce because I am a big tough manly man and I wanted the hottest sauce possible so it could put a little hair on my chest since it was all waxed off just two weeks ago. Delicious. Well, lemme tell you one thing about my waitress. That little filly had just about the prettiest darn eyes I’ve ever seen. I don’t remember what color they were because right after I noticed them, I focused on her big beautiful fun bags that were popping out of her t-shirt. Dayum, brother. I could tell that the waitress was into me because she kept asking me questions. “Do you need more napkins?” and “Do you want another drink?” Pretty obvious that she knew I was about to go off the market and she wanted one last chance to see what was underneath the Bitchy Waiter apron.
I must have had about two dozen wings and six beers. I guess I drank the bottle of Dom too because it was empty. Damned if I know. Then my buddies thought it would be a good idea to do some shots. They all did Jagermeister but since it was my bachelor party, I wanted something more refined. I had a Slippery Eel which is Jager layered with Bailey’s and Creme de Menthe. Fancy as fuck right? I’m gettin’ married!
After we paid the bill and left a huge tip (that’s what she said) we headed to our next party destination. It was only about ten blocks away, but we went in style. We had a stretch white Hummer with LED wheels and a hot tub. As we rode those ten blocks, we were all hanging out the windows and waving to all the jealous haters. We were so cool. We had this bad ass tune blaring on the c.d. player and before we knew it we were at Dave and Buster’s in Times Square. That’s right, I was about to get my bachelor party game on with some Whack-a-Mole and Skeeball. Nothin’ says bachelor party like Dave and Buster’s, yo. We were partying it up and I was downing the Jello shots and collecting more tickets than I ever had. I was on fire! I had enough tickets to take them to the counter and trade them in for the biggest stuffed teddy bear you have ever seen. My fiancee is going to love it when I put a tuxedo on it and make him my best man on Monday.
From this point on, I don’t really know what happened.
I know we went to Flashdancers after Dave and Buster’s. It’s that cool gentleman’s club right across the street from the David Letterman theater that always has the balloons? I remember walking into the club and trying to release the balloons and then a security guy yelling at me but that’s pretty much all I got. The only way I know I was there for sure is that there is a picture on my cell phone of me getting a lap dance with three women and a hermaphrodite. I look pretty happy in the picture. I looked through my photo gallery and there are 22 pictures from last night. In one picture, my face is in the urinal but I have a smile on so I guess it was alright with me. There is another picture of me doing the splits while two mafia-looking men are pointing guns at me and then there is a picture of a penis. I didn’t think it was my penis because it had a tattoo on it and my penis doesn’t have a tattoo. Or so I thought. I looked down and see that I do in fact have a tattoo on my penis. It’s a real beauty. A Mexican cutie. How it got here, I haven’t a clue. According to photos, I also took the tram to Roosevelt Island, rode the carousel at Central Park, had a burger at Shake Shack, made out with a homeless lady, was naked on Ellis Island, saw Porgy and Bess, climbed a statue at Columbus Circle and took a nap at The Container Store. What a night!! The best bachelor party ever!
So yes, I am in fact getting married on Monday to my partner of 21 years. Monday will be our 21st anniversary. I have been busy which is why the posts have been lacking. Thank you for your understanding. And if you feel the need to to honor this special day, you can click here and do that. Thanks, everyone!