Party Like You’re Single

So, last week we talked about how life doesn’t end with marriage. Now I have proof. R’s wedding shower (don’t ask- don’t fuckin’ ask) and bachelorette party were on Saturday. WH isn’t due home until tomorrow, so I didn’t have any kind of accountability AT ALL to anyone, for the first time in my life that night. So what did I do? Went out drinkin’ and dancin’, of course!

We didn’t even get to the bar/club (I thought it was a bar, but after talking to my little sister, she is sure it was a club. She said they don’t have cover charges, dance floors and stripper poles at bars) until almost 11pm. I had only eaten some chicken salad, some fruit, and some cucumber sandwiches the whole day, and they had food there, but what they had at 11pm were oysters, and internet? Paradise is *not* close enough to the ocean to eat raw oysters. No freakin’ way. So, even though I only had a few glasses of wine, it was enough. Way enough.

The night started out pretty tame, and when I came back to the table with my second glass of wine, some old geezer was showing the girls his underwear. I was horrified. Absolutely horrified. He then proceeded to flirt with us for almost half an hour, bought us a round of shots and disappeared. Thank God for that, because what you need at a bachelorette party is not old balls. Please.

At some point, I was forced (at gunpoint, I think) onto the dance floor. I don’t dance. I never have. I have no rhythm. Apparently, though, after a few glasses of wine, I don’t care that I can’t dance. Also, I’m pretty sure some guy took pictures of R and I pole dancing, and he disappeared before I could ask for royalties.

We eventually did attract some guys without old balls. Don’t worry, internet, I am a good wife, I showed everyone my wedding ring and took pictures and only danced with girls all night. I think I remember telling R’s other good friend to take this guy’s card already, because he is in college and those are good guys to fall in love with, if you have the chance to work it out at all. I also yelled at some guy for saying I was an atheist. He had me mixed up with R, because it’s hard to tell the difference between two girls when one of them is wearing a BRIDE tank top and a VEIL and the other is just wearing a really good bra and a low cut sweater.

I almost peed on myself driving, but I made it home, safe and sound, at 330am, and then proceeded to text everyone except my husband and my boss that I was home okay. I don’t know how I worked that out, but I remain eternally grateful that my boss didn’t get a drunken text from me at 330am saying I got home safe because my friends thought I was too drunk to drive. Which I wasn’t, but even if I was, thanks to Dad, I know that decent drunk driving is in our blood. Just kidding, internet. If you see my mountain-y photos, you know that Paradise is no place to try your luck at drunk driving. Driving with a mild buzz and a bladder full of chardonnay, yes. Drunk, no. In fact, I had to get off of the interstate at an alternate location because some idiot used the off ramp as an on ramp and killed himself on the cement wall. He, internet, was drunk.

I think that more than anything, I was drunk with freedom. Because WH is not *very* possessive, but you can guarantee that 330am would have been a little out of order in his mind. And the pole dancing, I don’t know how he would have felt about that, even if it was with other girls, and somehow that almost seems worse, because you know, it was probably fun to watch. This was actually the first time in my life I have been out drinking and dancing. It is not the first time I have been out until 330am unaccompanied, but that was somewhat a source of contention when WH and I were dating. I think he was mad at my parents, because I never had a curfew, and that would have made things so much easier for him. Still, I partied like I was single, except I conducted myself in a very wifely manner. I really hope those pictures don’t show up somewhere. I am told that it may have been possible that my white bra was “glowing” through my sweater under the black light?!

Pictures later, maybe. Depending on how I feel about putting my sin, and my face, all over this blog. Maybe.

What I will absolutely post later are some pics I took on my way to and from the wedding shower (don’t EVEN ask), because the scenery was incredible, and like you well know by now, I took 40000 pictures of the ridge lines and the clouds.

Oh, and internet? Eat before you drink. Please.

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One Response

  1. LOL!!! OMG I can relate to this. My best friend drags me out to the Casino WITHOUT the redneck hubby. And yes, eat before you drink. But be careful of WHAT you eat.
    Drink lots of water too.

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