I survived my first bachelor party this weekend in Vegas for my old high school friend Patrick. There wasn’t nearly as much drinking as I was expecting, but I did play my first game of beer pong and it’s pretty damn fun. My worthless teammates couldn’t make the balls in if their lives depended on it, but I did score two! Some pretty girl at TI gave us drink coupons, so apparently I had a quadruple shot of French Connection at the fake Rainforest Cafe there. I will now dub it the Cuatro, or as Bono would call it, the Catorce. Unfortunately at this point the bachelor decided to get drunk at some other casino and headed back to the party house, after he told all of us to meet him at the Bellagio for dinner buffet. What a bastard. I proceeded to do an odd hip-gyration dance in the middle of the Bellagio casino for 20 seconds, even prompting a woman to ask my friend, “What is he doing?”
The usual stripping and gambling activities took place, and we even took a trip to the gun range where some of the guys did the four assault rifle and desert eagle package while I chickened out and just went with one assault rifle and and a 9mm. I was standing in the stall next to the desert eagle though and could feel the blast of air every time it was fired. I think there was a 90% likelihood that I would have either dropped it or hit myself in the face with that hand cannon.
Oh, and there were also way too many people and far too few vehicles. I rode in the trunk of the minivan at one point, and if I had cut the brakes it would’ve been the opportune time for me to shout, “Wildcard, bitches!” and jump out the rear.