Here Comes the Bachelorette

Last night was Shea's Bachelorette party. I think I can say with confidence that it ended up being one of the crazier nights I've ever experienced and I stayed sober the entire time! Trust me, someone had to. Basically, it was your typical bachelorette party. We stayed at Embassy Suites in Dupont Circle, dressed in all pink (except Shea who was in white with a pink "Bride-To-Be" sash and a little veil), drank pink drinks, and had silly accessories like penis-shaped whistles. Those were pretty funny, actually, and we realized they could be useful as rape whistles if necessary.

After getting ready and taking some pictures, we all headed out to the first of three (gay) bars. Honestly, I have to say the gay bar idea was excellent. We made so many friends, as all of the guys were thrilled when they realized we were a bachelorette party, we were pretty much the only women in the bars, and best of all NO ONE tried to touch us inappropriately. They were just all so nice, buying Shea shots, taking pictures for us, and giving us funny life advice. The first two bars that we went to were great, I really enjoyed them. But around the third bar the night got pretty sketchy pretty quickly.

I was the only one of us sober at that point, and the bar, called "Secrets" was a gay strip club, legit naked men and everything. It was really quite disturbing. I preferred the drag show in the basement to the strippers upstairs. Also, they stamped our wrists after IDing us (like most clubs) and the stamp said "S/Z" and I LCST nerded out on the doorman, because S/Z is a book by Roland Barthes that deals with sexualities. He analyzes in five tropes a short story called Sarrasine by Balzac, in which the main character falls in love with a castrato. Barthes' S/Z, then pulls it apart and illuminates themes of beauty, sexuality, and humanity. It's more complicated than that, but yeah.

Anyways, I think I'm the only person on earth who goes to a gay strip club and asks the doorman about a cultural theorist.

I was quite pleased when we finally left that bar, since it was a bit like watching a car wreck, and we headed back to the hotel. But dealing with two drunk girls (I rode back with Brooke and Alli) was a bit difficult. Brooke got sick in the cab (she managed to get out before actually throwing up, luckily), so she headed straight upstairs to the hotel room once we got back, but Alli refused to go upstairs since she was being very friendly with these foreign guys who thought we were prostitutes since we had on heels at 3 AM and it ended with a very slap-stick-esque elevator chase, with me on one elevator, a sketchy guy on another, and Alli on the third. The elevators were made of glass so we could see each other and we kept running on and off of elevators and floors. Alli and I escaped though, and made it safely back to the room and locked the door. Gah. I am not cut out for sketchyness. Give me a nice round of mini-golf or a late night watching movies any day. But Shea had a wonderful, wasted time, and that's what matters.

And hey, the stories I got from this night will last for ages!