Sunday, August 20, 2006

I am (somewhat) able to let myself go (sometimes)

Yesterday was Lucy's bachelorette party.

Great timing.

The job interview in New York turned a ho-hum week into a frantic, emotional tornado. And it was capped off by an open house at my work, featuring 1,000+ visitors and way too much responsibility on my already packed plate.

After leaving the open house, I raced home for a shower. I was already late, so I threw myself together and zoomed out the door as quickly as I could.

I made it to the party after dinner and just before the games were to begin.

Oh, goody. How I love games centered around humiliation and the male sex organ.

We opened things up with "body charades." I wanted refuse my team assignment, retreat to the couch and pull into myself. I hadn't even had a drink yet. The game sounded torturous.

The game would've been, too, had I not consciously made an effort to get over myself. It wasn't my party. If Lucy was game for it, I was game for it.

I had the good fortune of acting out the following: fellatio, hand job and thong.

I scored points for my team by correctly guessing: dominatrix, kama sutra, missionary and a slew of the like.

I pretty much kicked ass.

Not bad for a mere virgin, eh?

And speaking of being a mere virgin: being the only one at a sex-themed party is somewhat uncomfortable. Not that anyone (including Lucy, believe it or not) knew, but there is always that irrational fear of being called out on your bluff.

We played some stupid games. Talked gynecologists and giving birth and periods and all the girly gore you could imagine.

Then, there was the bar.

We walked in the door and were handed:
a. a playing card
b. two wooden dowels, about the length and the circumference of a drum stick

After being ushered to the bar, we were informed that all females and males were handed a trading card. It was the job of the female to find a male with a matching card. Then, he was supposed to buy you a drink.

We didn't bother with that game.

Our server then informed us that, at this particular bar, the following was encouraged:
a. standing on your chairs
b. standing on your chairs when the DJ demanded it
c. pounding your wooden sticks against the walls, your table, the bar, your friend's wooden sticks and everything, basically, but the lights and the ceiling.
d. pounding your wooden sticks against the walls, your table, the bar, your friend's wooden sticks when the DJ demanded it

Listening to the DJ resulted in special shot deals.


I didn't get drunk. I never get drunk. But I drank enough. Including a Jager bomb (on special after the clientele yelled and banged sticks really loudly), even though I would rather drink my own urine.

Once again, I forced myself to suck it up and have fun despite my reservations. I would not be the lame bridesmaid who would rather be at home, watching What Not to Wear. I drank (intelligently). I danced. I smacked my sticks against things when encouraged to. I laughed when Lucy intentionally threw water on me.

And I had our server put her tab on my credit card.

I cashed out at the same time as another bridesmaid, Alexa. Despite telling him 43 times that I was paying for Lucy's tab ("Lucy! The bride! Put her tab on my card! She's the bride! She can't pay!"), the server came back with Alexa's tab on my credit card.

So I paid for her drinks, too!

(She says that she'll pay me back. I don't believe it.)

Lucy had been very generous in buying shots for her entourage. Alexa bought herself plenty of drinks and far too many $5 bottles of water.

It was a very expensive evening.

But I had fun.

And proved to myself that I could let go.

The cost outweighs the benefit.


Amy said...

How wonderful to read about someone who was a great bridesmaid!! So many times I see bridesmaids that think the wedding (and all events surrounding) are about THEM. YOU ARE A WONDERFUL FRIEND!! I'm glad you had some fun, too. Keep us posted on the job in NY!

Anonymous said...

Lucy doesn't know?

I'm glad you were able to let go and have fun anyway.

A said...

Yikes, Amy! That is definitely what I am trying (incredibly hard) NOT to do.

Is good bridesmaid karma for if I ever get married, right?

(Although, my sister would be in the wedding and it is ALWAYS all about her. So. Maybe I should give up trying.)


No. She doesn't know. Weird, right? We've just never been a "kiss and tell" sort of a friendship. I didn't even know about/meet her husband-to-be until a very long time into their relationship.

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