Wednesday, June 8, 2016
Jenn is getting married! Who is Jenn? Not relevant. Who is she marrying? Doesn’t matter. So why am I telling you this? Because it means I get to spend a weekend getting drunk in Mexico screaming “shots for the bride!”, and then write about it for your enjoyment. Not that I need an excuse to tap into my inner international alcoholic, as I think I have proven to you thus far. So let’s set the stage: Bachelorette Party in Cabo San Lucas. For all of you who don’t know, Cabo is at the tip of Baja California in Mexico. Unless you are my geographically disinclined uber driver from 7am this morning who is positive that Cabo is actually in California. There are 10 girls going on this trip, so I’ll just give you the run down on the people that I (a) actually know, and (b) can reasonably count on to engage in shenanigans that will ultimately benefit in the blog.
Name: Jenn Witz (soon to be Marasco)
Likes: husband hunting and ring shopping, snowboarding, getting kicked out of wineries, drinking in airport bars, shopping at Express (yes, it still exists).
Trip goals: I’ve heard through the bridesmaid grapevine that the soon-to-be Mrs. Marasco is trying to get TURNT UP on this trip. So let the games begin.
The A Team (i.e. the people I know):
Suzanne – A bridesmaid that has historically proven over the last 11 years I have know her to never say no to a party. Or anything, for that matter. Literally, never. She also always finds a way to get free shit. She just has one of those faces.
Allie – A bridesmaid and also my BFF who is likely to spend a majority of the weekend blacked out searching for quesadillas while simultaneously being the group hype-girl.
Sheena – a fellow non-bridesmaid who is braving Mexico in a boot after having broken her foot at the last bachelorette party she attended a few weeks ago. So basically, a seasoned professional.
Ryan – The group sugar daddy minus the sugar, double the daddy, and also the reason we all ordered men’s t-shirts. Why do we have a boy at this bachelorette party? Everyone knows you need your token gay (at least one) at these things. Get with the times, people.
A-team group goals: Get on a yacht. Don’t die. Don’t get arrested.
Now this wouldn’t be Rory’s blog unless I took this opportunity to give you a little single girl perspective on bachelorette parties. You all knew it was coming the second you opened this. Lets look at the pros and cons of friends getting married:
Pro: They are forced to pry themselves away from their other half for one weekend and attempt to be as fun as they were when they were single. You know, like back when you first became friends with them. Before they retreated into the abyss of Netflix and chill on loop.
Con – They turn into a pumpkin at the end of the bachelorette and once again become the friends you keep in touch with via text because they only hang out with couples now.
Pro: I get to party for a weekend. And I will take any excuse to party with my friends. I also get to use my go pro, so there’s that.
Con: This shit gets fucking expensive. Do you know how many bachelorette parties I have this year? A lot. And a bachelorette party can no longer just be one night of debauchery. No, no, no, these girls need and entire weekend of vodka to the face so that they can steel themselves to the idea of one man for the rest of time. Now, I’m fine with spending money on a weekend of fun just about anywhere. The only part that pisses me off about this is that by the time I get married (if ever), all these bitches will be settled down with kids. Meaning I’ll be getting “Sorry, Ror, can’t make it to your bachelorette weekend, I would need to pump at the pool. And Reginald Rotherford II can’t go more than a few hours without the tit.” So while everyone’s marriage trumps my single life, no one’s marriage can trump kids. Why does no one tell you this? The race isn’t to get to the altar. The race is to have a bachelorette party before your friends turn into milk machines who forget about the thousands of dollars you once spent on their life choices.
Pro: You get to see your friends blissfully happy, blah blah blah. Yeah, I get it. Weddings are great. Love is in the air. You’ve found the one person you are pretty sure you can probably stand for fifty years (*twenty at most*). By all means, let’s throw a party to celebrate this. Just make sure there’s a open bar, please.
Con: No one seems to give a shit about the single girl who didn’t get a plus-one because she isn’t in a “serious relationship”, who orders the steak because it’s not like anyone is going to notice, who secretly prays that her other single friends are still single by the time the wedding rolls around so she’ll have someone to sit next to. Because extended family thinking you are the lesbian friend is always better than being the odd number at a table of 9, set for 10.
Con: Some brides are too classy for stippers. Which is really just code for “my fiancé will bitch about it”.
Ok. I’m done. Rant over. I’m off to the land of booze cruises, pool bars, 2-for-1 drinks all day, and a general acceptance of anyone drunk before noon. Señor Boston is coming home, Mexico! There are really no cons here.
Tomorrow Sheena and I get drunk on a plane before noon. Among many other things.