Wednesday, July 16, 2003


When you hear those two words doesn't it conjure up a thousand wild images, a cornucopia of ribaldry and misplaced genitalia? Well, last night I was thrown into a situation where I had to work a "bachelor party" because of a gas main break over at the Country Club. Some idiot drove one of the electric carts into the gas main over there and almost blew himself up and caused the evacuation and closing of the country club for the next 48 hours. Anyway, this party was just about to kick off over there when all the shit went down and it had to be moved over to the resort, so Kyle and I get nabbed to throw this mad bastard into existence in about 15 minutes, a world record seeing that we had next to no information about what was about to transpire. So Cynthia (she's and older lady originally from Trinidad) comes down and tells us she heard there is going to be strippers! Fuck Yeah!! We set up this table with twelve place settings for dinner with wine and everything and things get started, these rich white country club looking gentlemen ranging in ages from 20ish to 50 ish enter the room. They have notes and bibles with them. Dinner service starts and for the next three hours these guys go on to tell the man of honor how to go about his marriage according to the bible. The end. Cynthia comes back about two hours into this wild party and wonders if the strippers have come in yet. We explained that the only thing being exposed were "scriptures" and that is it. Mrs. know-it-all wouldn't believe us. Where is Adrian Zmed when you need him? Where was the wild titties and ass shaking? Why do I feel like I've been let down?

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