Friends, have you ever been to a bachelorette party? I mean, like, a proper one? With penis headbands and 'suck for a buck' games and the like? I attended my first ever real bachelorette party last Saturday. This is not to say that I don't have married friends - I have heaps - but they're a bit more 'Let's drink some beer at the pub and call it a bachelorette party' type of girls.
The bacherlorette party itself was fun and par for the course (drinks at swanky dance clubs, dancing to lots and lots of Michael Jackson, flirting with bachelor parties, feeling smug that we were the least ridiculous of the many bachelorette parties we saw). Things became significantly more interesting (?) when we had the grand idea to bust up the bachelor party, which happened to have taken up residence at The Double Deuce.
Please allow me to paint you a picture of The Double Deuce. Imagine your average VFW: fake wood panelling, pull tab cage, meat raffle, neon beer signs adorning every vertical surface. A dart board. Fried cheese curds. Now: imagine, in the corner of this bar, a fully lit, tiny, elevated T-shaped cat-walk, staffed by the strippers rejected from Minneapolis's more esteemed strip clubs. If you've been looking for a place where you can scratch your pull tab while simultaneously eat a hamburger and oggling boobies (all without paying cover) your search is over!
So we stopped into this fine establishment to suprise/embarass the groom-to-be and his friends, all guys that I've known since junior high. My friend Tara and I took seats at end of the cat walk between songs to hassle these normally well-behaved boys. And we were so busy attempting to shame them, that we didn't notice that our friend Jason had sneakily placed money on the cat walk directly in front of us.
The bacherlorette party itself was fun and par for the course (drinks at swanky dance clubs, dancing to lots and lots of Michael Jackson, flirting with bachelor parties, feeling smug that we were the least ridiculous of the many bachelorette parties we saw). Things became significantly more interesting (?) when we had the grand idea to bust up the bachelor party, which happened to have taken up residence at The Double Deuce.
Please allow me to paint you a picture of The Double Deuce. Imagine your average VFW: fake wood panelling, pull tab cage, meat raffle, neon beer signs adorning every vertical surface. A dart board. Fried cheese curds. Now: imagine, in the corner of this bar, a fully lit, tiny, elevated T-shaped cat-walk, staffed by the strippers rejected from Minneapolis's more esteemed strip clubs. If you've been looking for a place where you can scratch your pull tab while simultaneously eat a hamburger and oggling boobies (all without paying cover) your search is over!
So we stopped into this fine establishment to suprise/embarass the groom-to-be and his friends, all guys that I've known since junior high. My friend Tara and I took seats at end of the cat walk between songs to hassle these normally well-behaved boys. And we were so busy attempting to shame them, that we didn't notice that our friend Jason had sneakily placed money on the cat walk directly in front of us.
We didn't realize that the stripper was crawling towards us until we heard a round of guffaws filter through the crowd and turned our faces to see what? Why, a grinning face followed directly by two tiny bouncy breasts being thrust into our faces! I think Tara and I both both emitted tiny shrieks of terror while the stripper purred into our ears "If you don't want to get hit in the face, look down." Wisdom for the ages, folks.
After the boobies in our faces, the stripper then attempted to play piano scales, with her head, on the keys that were apparently our boobs. Up the the piano and down the piano while Tara and I disolved into hysterics over the wood paneling, the florescent lights and this woman mashing the crown of her head into my B-cups.
Things quickly become moved from PG-13 to NC-17 when she turned around to literally twirl her cho-cha in a figure-8 inches from our faces while Tara and I became intensely interested in those aforementioned beer signs and fake knots in that woods panelling. Not to be deterred, our friend then flipped over and offered her bum up for inspection, jiggling it, spanking it and at one point snapping her thong. Indeed.
And that was approximately enough. As one of the bachelor party decided to 'make it rain' (aka act like a douche and throw a bunch of dollar bills all over the stage) we made a hasty excape, ducking out before she could showcase her actual womb.
But I hear they'll do that for, like, $7.
16 comments:
LMAO!
Hilarious, gross, and mildly upsetting.
Dollface: that's exactly how I felt about the whole thing! :D
Oh Em Gee, that sounds utterly terrifying, and yet it makes me giggle. I hope you're fully recovered from your brush with death!
oh, that's hysterical... and frightening because I'm supposed to be part of a bachelorette party next month that I'm certain will end up at a strip club. I wonder if it would be worth it to bring a SARS mask...?
I helped plan a bachelorette party last summer that was probably the best I will ever go to. We did 2 nights in Vegas with fancy-pants dinners, night clubs at the Palms and the Wynn, a four room suite (there were 16 of us) on the strip, and of course a strip club.
Except she insisted on a male/female strip club. The first floor was women stripping, the second had the men. Male strippers are much more horrible than female. Female strippers tend to stay on stage or just walk around waiting for someone to ask for a lap dance, but these guys didn't wait. They were all over us like vultures on a dieing animal, thrusting and gyrating their banana hammocks all around. A few girls even retreated to the female floor. The guys were not unattractive and had nice bodies, the issue was the lack of consideration to personal space and people who said no. I think I would take boobies any day over that. :)
hahahaha that was hilarious! Sorry it happened to you but that was just flat out hilarious!
That does sound positively terrifying!
I can only imagine the depths of your MN-cringe!
Sal, it was car-ay-zee horrifying to witness from the outside, too! Infinitely cringeworthy. Our poor Sar!!!
omg, such an adventure you had! yikes!
Oh my gosh! I went to a strip club with a group of friends once, just to see what all the fuss was about. I've heard that other states don't let strippers get fully nude, but that is not the case here in MT. Big surprise.
One of the lovely ladies kept yelling "Peekaboo" and...well, I won't actually describe what she did to accompany it.
I once went to the 22 on purpose, to see a friend who worked there, after a steak dinner across the street at Jack's (incidentally, there were half a dozen wizened, elderly nuns drinking sherry at the bar all during my dinner).
Dude, what happened next still makes me blush. My friend, she...she...gave me a lap dance. In front of people.
I was mortified. It was her "going away" present to me as I was leaving for Seattle.
Holy moly.
argh, nasty.
No offense, but homegirl probably did that to get y'all out of there. Strippers hate when random beezys roll through, acting superior, not tipping, distracting guys at the rail.
I'm not saying you shouldn't have been grossed out though...most OG strippers scare the shit out of me too.
I was reverse molested by a lady stripper, so I totally feel your pain. But at least you have a story to tell!
I've only been to one proper bachelorette party (in Vegas no less). Pretty interesting stuff. LOL.
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