Hold the tits

For a few years I’ve been an anti titty bar advocate. Please don’t misunderstand, it’s not that I don’t enjoy beautiful naked women or breast in general, it’s just that the inversion in a night out to a strip club is so ridiculously expensive that I can’t help but get pissed off at myself to pay someone to slap their tits on my face, when I get that free at home. To be honest, my problem with strip joints in general has to do more with the people who go to a strip club than those who work at one. It’s the equivalent to a movie theater… sometimes you’d rather take that asshole that’s on the phone ruining your experience and saw him in half.

This past weekend I went to half a bachelor party and skipped the second act. First act was a congregation of friends having beer, talking, having fun and catching up… the second part included the visit to an undisclosed nudie bar in x or y place where the groom to be didn’t really want to go.

I’ve been to bachelor parties before and that’s why I expressly prohibited my friends from getting me a stripper. It’s not an honor code or that I have to be faithful. It’s just that I had two bachelor party experiences which were so bad that I’d rather avoid that scenario altogether.

Women often wonder what the hell happens in a bachelor party. What’s the mystique and what’s the big deal? Some guys may cry foul that I’m writing about this and say I’m a brownie point hogger who is so pussy whipped he’ll betray his fellow brothers. Those guys are EXACTLY the reason why I want to write this.

First off, the disclaimer: I’m a guy, I’m happily married and am still new at the marriage business since I’m only 8 months in, though I went out with Mrs. Joker for almost 5 years before tying the knot. I love my wife. We respect each other. She turns me on and I find her incredibly sexy. I would never dream of cheating on her. Oh and I also still watch porn. This is nothing to do with being against women who choose stripping as a means to an end… this post is about two experiences that weren’t fun and I don’t see the point of wasting $500 on.

So what happens at a Bachelor Party? Well it obviously depends… but more than depending on the Bachelor, it depends on who organized the party. What happens is that in 90% of bachelor parties, the wishes of the groom to be are not obeyed. In my case I had to be specific and nasty so as to carry across the point that I wasn’t interested. People were bummed, they wanted to throw me a party with strippers and the whole sh’bang… I desisted, and resisted and snapped at people. Might have gotten people pissed off at me, but it saved money and it saved me a headache at the end of a retarded night. But I digress… what determines what happens in a party is who coordinates the event. For the time I was a best man, I let someone else find the strippers, I did the calling, collected the money and took my belt whipping like a man, putting on a happy face for the watchers on. Oh and the level of debauchery directly correlates with the amount of alcohol present in someone’s system.

In one of the parties, two hookers/strippers were called because of their libertarian views and elevated threshold for disgusting guys. They were flexible, moderately attractive and didn’t mind getting down and dirty. They are also known for doing any and everything. No rules barred, yada, yada, yada. They danced, they stripped, they beat the shit out of me with a belt and if I wanted I could have made out, finger banged or fucked any of the two… unfortunately the whole being a hooker thing isn’t my thing and I was just tolerating the experience more than anything. My point of view is that women I didn’t know, who weren’t exactly my type were naked in front of me… and a whole bunch of guys. Maybe I don’t have that frat gene in me, but I felt ridiculously uncomfortable. After the dance show, it turns out one of the girls “disappeared” with a guy. Who the guy in question was is up to conspiracy theories, head counting and whoever knows the truth but the fact of the matter is that someone played the STD roulette not thirty feet from where I was.

The second bachelor party in question had me luckily able to not be engaged in the scene. Same scenario: two girls, anything goes, they rock, they’re awesome, this night is going to be epic… when the strippers get to the house in question, it’s the same girl as the last time and another friend. Money is rounded up and I take a seat where I can kind of see the action but am close enough to the door so I can bolt if need be. I didn’t bolt and some part of me regrets that because I saw shit that was just wrong. Three guys groping one girl would have been bad enough, but no… I had to see three guys make a queue to eat the hooker’s pussy. I was grossed out and disappointed in most of the people there because I actually know the girlfriends or wives of the guys in question and all the while I had to ask myself what the fucking point was.

Seeing this reaction from me, I had to go back to my first bachelor party to remember a positive titty bar experience. I was pretty much a kid, we went to a strip joint, the groom to be got VIP treatment, I was in the front row, I got handed a wad of dollar bills and one particularly well endowed dancer was not only beautiful and sweet, but she danced to Pearl Jam. She was a stripper, but she wasn’t slutty and even in retrospect, I wouldn’t have minded having a fully clothed conversation with her. We had our drinks, dropped our bills, gave our thanks and said goodbye. Sure the groom got put on stage, his shirt was ripped and he got ice poured on his balls… but it was in a controlled environment.

What I’ve lived in other bachelor parties has included people drinking too much, making poor decisions and living to regret them the next day. Actually, this past weekend if the topic of the nudie bar had come up earlier when people were a little less drunk and we had a little more money in our wallet, I probably would have gone along… but when you mix alcohol, with “friends” who don’t listen to what you want to do, stupid shit is bound to happen.

So if you’re engaged and don’t necessarily want to go the hooker banana show in the apartment route, by all means say thanks for the party offer, but would you mind holding the tits?

Cheers