Watching men take off their clothes is the perfect way to celebrate a female friend getting married. It's also necessary to drink your beverage from a penis straw, eat penis shaped candy, penis shaped pasta, and cupcakes designed to look like a boob. Without these ingredients, you're not embracing the theme of the most important right of passage: the bachelorette party.
Having only been to one party of the sort I thought I knew what to expect. The previous bachelorette party took place at "The Cave." At The Cave, the men dance on stage and bounce their (presumably) stuffed banana hammocks up and down. When you guy a shot of girly sugary goodness, a man picks you up, you take the shot tube out of his moth, and he throws you back to help it go down smooth?
Doesn't sound too embarrassing right? Just scream animialistically at girating men as they discard their firemen costumes. Piece of cake. MAN cake.
Lauren's bachelorette party did not take place at The Cave. It took place Upstairs at Risque (http://www.myspace.com/menofclubrisque). The Upstairs is Risque "naughty little secret" where women go to view buff shaved men without shame or modesty.
Realizing I was wrong about the way of the male strip club only took 3 minutes. A man was assigned to each bride to be and when the music started, my jaw dropped. Instead of "dancing," the men do something that could best be described as "dry humping." When the guy put my friend up on his shoulders and buried his face into her crotch area, I thought that was as far as it goes. But I realized I was wrong about that when he spun her into what can best be described as a "stand up 69 position."
If you were lucky enough to get into the "hot seat" then you really got nailed (over the clothes). It was a long night of insane over the clothes fucking and harassment that you pay for. Our table was surely the lamest and least enthused when men in thongs approached we shewed them away with ones.
Boyfriend made an accurate observation when he said, "At strip clubs, women take off their clothes and are paid to deal with men ogling them and touching them. At male strip clubs, the men take off their clothes and the women are paying to be ogled and touched." He didn't use those exact words but it's pretty close and it was right on.
So if you're looking for a girls night out that involves being tossed around by muscular men in thongs, Upstairs at Risque is the destination for you. Be prepared to just let go and enjoy the attention. I highly suggest you drink an obscene amount of alcohol before you arrive.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Bruce Springsteen Brings out the Numbers Man
Dear Natalie of the future,
This weekend you attended an Obama rally of sorts headlined by Bruce Springsteen. You love anything involving a crowd. The more people there are, the more people you can watch. Oh how you, Natalie of age 27 love to people watch.
And you should look back on this day fondly. The day you saw "The Boss" play for free a few blocks from your house. You and two friends submerged yourselves into a crowd of thousands. You successfully fought every urge to retreat to freedom from claustrophobia and stayed in one space for over an hour.
Today, you were helpful. You and your friend (the female one) suggested short people "stand right here" to help them get a better angle. And when the short people's friends would leave, you let them know and gave them direction. When people wanted to get by, you let them pass. When drunken assholes with full cups of beer stomped through the crowd yelling incoherents towards the stage, you politely stared forward and waited for them to move on.
When a man approached your friend with a medallion showing the astrological sign for Taurus and started speaking in numbers, you weren't rude at all. Even when you ignored him. And as he went on and on, only reciting birthdays, you stopped ignoring him and engaged him in conversation. "Who's birthday is that? I do believe you. Oh, yes, that is a pretty Jesus bracelet."
This is where you take after your mother. The people that no one else will talk to always find you. And you only encourage them.
The numbers man watched mass at 5:30 this morning and then watch Action News. He listened to Thunder Road for 2 and a half hours and traveled 20 miles to be here. "Bruce Springsteen is 37 minutes late," he tells you.
On this day, when the numbers man didn't stop talking for more than 4 seconds, you were grateful that your male friend was there to step in and say, "Why don't you stand near me honey?" Your friend did an excellent job at intervening by lighting a cigarette and chasing the numbers man away with a cloud of smoke.
When Bruce Springsteen comes on, the thousands of people on the street are happy. And you watch them be happy. You seek out the die hard Boss fans and watch their movements. The look of satisfaction on their faces. The corny sense of unity in the city and the intro to the 2nd song give you goosebumps. Your face might even leak- but just a little.
On this day you're appreciative of living in Philadelphia.
Your friend,
Natalie of 2008
This weekend you attended an Obama rally of sorts headlined by Bruce Springsteen. You love anything involving a crowd. The more people there are, the more people you can watch. Oh how you, Natalie of age 27 love to people watch.
And you should look back on this day fondly. The day you saw "The Boss" play for free a few blocks from your house. You and two friends submerged yourselves into a crowd of thousands. You successfully fought every urge to retreat to freedom from claustrophobia and stayed in one space for over an hour.
Today, you were helpful. You and your friend (the female one) suggested short people "stand right here" to help them get a better angle. And when the short people's friends would leave, you let them know and gave them direction. When people wanted to get by, you let them pass. When drunken assholes with full cups of beer stomped through the crowd yelling incoherents towards the stage, you politely stared forward and waited for them to move on.
When a man approached your friend with a medallion showing the astrological sign for Taurus and started speaking in numbers, you weren't rude at all. Even when you ignored him. And as he went on and on, only reciting birthdays, you stopped ignoring him and engaged him in conversation. "Who's birthday is that? I do believe you. Oh, yes, that is a pretty Jesus bracelet."
This is where you take after your mother. The people that no one else will talk to always find you. And you only encourage them.
The numbers man watched mass at 5:30 this morning and then watch Action News. He listened to Thunder Road for 2 and a half hours and traveled 20 miles to be here. "Bruce Springsteen is 37 minutes late," he tells you.
On this day, when the numbers man didn't stop talking for more than 4 seconds, you were grateful that your male friend was there to step in and say, "Why don't you stand near me honey?" Your friend did an excellent job at intervening by lighting a cigarette and chasing the numbers man away with a cloud of smoke.
When Bruce Springsteen comes on, the thousands of people on the street are happy. And you watch them be happy. You seek out the die hard Boss fans and watch their movements. The look of satisfaction on their faces. The corny sense of unity in the city and the intro to the 2nd song give you goosebumps. Your face might even leak- but just a little.
On this day you're appreciative of living in Philadelphia.
Your friend,
Natalie of 2008
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
