Sunday, August 3, 2008

Bachelorette Party Recap

So, my bachelorette party was last night. Here are a few memorable snippets from the evening (I'll post pictures when everyone sends them to me):

Friday night, 8:00pm
J: Are you excited??
Me: YES! There will lots of wine drinking.
J: (pause)
J: I hope we can make it out past 11:30....
Me: No promises.

Saturday night, 6pm
Sex toy lady shows up in a super low-cut tank top and a massive suitcase of goodies, leaning with one arm propped against the wall as if she'd just dragged the suitcase up 34 flights of stairs. Before she even walks into my apartment, she shouts, "Jesus, it took me longer to find a parking space than it did to find my G-spot!" Hello to you too.

There are dildos, vibrators, cock rings and the like strewn about my coffee table. Time to fill up my wine glass to the brim. (And I'd like to take a special moment now to welcome all my fellow perverts who just arrived here from a very graphic Google search. You're not gonna find what you're looking for here, but welcome, just the same.)

We're all quizzed on pervy sex terms during an explicit game of Sex Jeopardy. I realize that I don't spend nearly enough time on Urban Dictionary to fairly compete.


My sister, the youngest person in the group, wins Sex Jeopardy by answering, "What is 'double stuffed'?" to the final question. I assure you, it has nothing to do with Oreos. Or anything sweet, in any sense of the word.

The second youngest in the group takes one look at the Silver Bullet and is immediately confused. "I mean, does it go inside?" NOOO.


Aaand, we're drunk. Just in time for purchases. The second youngest steers clear of the Silver Bullet, not surprisingly.

We're at Sushi Samba's rooftop lounge ordering drinks and sushi. I am not wearing a boa, but someone else there is. I take this opportunity to thank my girls for not making me into such a spectacle at a nice restaurant.

I discover that my dress has pockets! I am oddly excited by this and tell those sitting closest to me about my discovery multiple times.

On our walk over to Swirl Wine Bar, a guy asks me where he can find Sound-Bar. I point him in the right direction, but not without asking him if he's from Schaumburg. He denies it and runs away, but I know he's lying.

We take out seats at Swirl where there is a Latin band playing, complete with three singer/dancers. One of these women does not have a microphone and does not dance. All she does is clap. We decide that we can do this job too, but since we're drunk, it ends up being more like the Special Olympics of clapping.

The band half-jokingly asks for song suggestions and my sister-in-law screams, "LA VIDA LOCA!!" Not jokingly. The band stares. And does not play Livin' La Vida Loca.

One of the dancers pulls me and my college roommate onto the dance floor, perhaps in retaliation for the "la vida loca" thing. Within minutes, all 13 of us are dancing around like, well, a drunken bachelorette party.

"J, we made it past 11:30!"

SIL orders shots for everyone. I don't do shots, but I sip mine down in a few gulps, knowing that the night is already winding down.

After a few yawns and stretches, we all admit to wanting to go home. So we're not 21 anymore. What of it?

As several of us walk back to my apartment past the fire station, a fire truck flicks on its siren and barrels out of the station. My other SIL, who has two kids and is never in this outrageous state, thrusts her arms in the air and lets out a, "WOOOOO!" as it speeds away. Wooo fires!

Despite not being able to construct a complete sentence, my first SIL manages to convey the fact that she wants to order pizza, even though her hotel is off the Blue Line near O'hare and it's already pretty late. Dave, who is beyond amused, keeps asking her if she's SURE she'll eat it. She says she will.

"Daaaave, jalapenos! Donnforgetthat."

SIL wisely crawls to the bathroom, but doesn't actually barf. So she crawls back out and sprawls on the floor, giggling.

Dave decides its time for SIL to go to bed (forget the pizza) and puts both SILs in a cab. SIL 1 crawls in and announces that the cab smells like weed. Dave apologizes to the driver for giving him two very drunk girls, but he HAS given her three puke bags just in case.

After chatting, snacking and laughing with the other girls spending the night, our buzzes have faded and our eyelids are heavy. It's time to pack it in.

All in all, a great night with great girls! THANKS LADIES!


TKTC said...

Exact breakdown of between-bar conversation:

NewHaircut: Do you know where SoundBar is?
Elle Michelle: Are you from Schaumburg?
NH: No, Chicago.
EM: And SoundBar? Really?
NH: Uhhh
EM: Nevermind, its that way...

Nice discretion, lovely. It was a very entertaining evening...out past 11:30 and all. Send pics!

ANG* said...

i couldnt even speak when he asked where soundbar-soundbar-soundbar was. i just laughed and shook my head. realllllllly bro. we know you dont live in the city.

TKTC - i love that you called him a "newhaircut" cause thats exactly what he was...

also, i love that you can give a minute by minute recal. i couldnt do that even if i hadnt been drinking. well, unless i had my computer infront of me. ha.

one of my fave moments was seeing your sis with her shoes off, feet up on the table in swirl passed the eff out. then 5 mins later, shaking her ass off on the dance floor.

pics will be posted soon :)

Anonymous said...

Hahah, Oh gosh, I know exactly what you mean about not being 21 anymore! It's a rare event for me to stay up past midnight. :) Glad you had a fun party!

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