Summer is ending, which means two things: Kids are going back to school, and couples galore are getting married. If you listen very carefully on a clear, crisp day, you can hear glasses make contact with one another while people merrily toast the occasion. If you listen even closer, maybe you can hear the wedding celebrations too. Both are reasons to cheer, but when I think back to how mom used to celebrate the first day of school, I will always contend that’s the bigger party.
It wasn’t just my mother either. The entire pack of neighborhood moms gathered on that glorious day. They exchanged gifts, drank spiced rum, and sang carols around a tree of ornaments. Back then, most mothers stayed at home and none of the kids on our block went to summer camp. That’s why our moms personified summer vacation as the Wicked Witch, and when Labor Day approached, well Ding Dong the Wicked Witch was dead! It was a big deal that would have made the crotchety old preacher from Footloose dance. Now that I think about it, I bet the whole concept of a block party was started by stay-at-home moms somewhere.
Don’t misunderstand me. Mom cared for us dearly. She often told us how much she loved us, then followed it up with, “Now quit walking on the floor I just mopped and get the hell out of my house!“
I had a very entertaining childhood for sure, but I don’t wish to write about that. The real purpose of this column is a public service announcement directed at all the ladies on the verge of getting married. First of all, congratulations. Secondly, if you plan on having a bachelorette party (or a gaggle, as I like to call them), here is a list of suggestions from a concerned citizen:
- Dress subtly. It’s a lot classier if you go out with your friends and have fun without the veil of condoms and the Life Saver T-shirt that advertises the “suck for a buck” opportunity. Why would guys want to give you a dollar to suck candy off of your shirt when you’re getting married in a week? It’s like paying for a sip of someone else’s beer. Better idea…get your single, hotter maid of honor to wear that shirt. You could pocket so much more cash.
- Act like you’re no longer in the eighth grade. In other words, if the party is going to be in public, don’t have a penis theme. The 4-foot inflatable penis, the penis cake, the penis straws for your drinks, the penis tiara…all of it makes you look like you still giggle like schoolkids when someone says the word “duty”. Unless you’re a walking billboard for a new Jenna Jamison movie, don’t bother. It’s obnoxious. And finally…
- Don’t go to a comedy club. I don’t care how much a club markets themselves as “your party headquarters”, don’t do it. Please listen to me on this one. Please don’t go to a comedy club. This cannot be stressed enough. Comedians don’t really hate bachelorette parties…rather, we abhor them. More often than not, gaggles enter the club already drunk, and they somehow expect the show to be all about the bride-to-be. That’s obvious when the MC announces your presence, and your gaggle responds with a raucous “WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” loud enough to turn off Earnhardt fans.
I will say that there is some value to your presence at the club…it’s mildly amusing to see daggers shoot out of the eyes of one gaggle if another gaggle is there at the same time. The most common mindset among gaggles is that theirs should be the only party that night and their precious penis-loving, condom-veil girlfriend should be the center of attention. The tension thickens when it’s learned that both bachelorettes have, God forbid, the same wedding day. Holy crap, that’s hilarious! It’s like the Bloods learning that the Crips are on their turf, only there’s more vicious hatred involved between drunk gaggles. And just in case you’re oblivious to another girl having the same wedding date as you, you have your trusty gaggle leader to tell you. She’s the coordinator of this little soiree and she’s almost – almost – as irritating as you.
The truth is, the comic on stage wants you to have fun, but he doesn’t care that you’re getting married, and neither do any of the paying customers. My best guess would be that some of your friends in the group don’t really give a shit either. They’re probably there because you asked them to be a bridesmaid. Why did you need twelve bridesmaids? Most likely because some girl you knew had eleven last year. Having less than eleven would simply be less expensive and uncatty, and that’s apparently not your style.
Bad attitude on my part? Maybe. I’m writing this just a few days after a weekend in Greensboro, NC. I did four shows in two nights, and there were at least three gaggles per show. It’s too bad irritation and anguish can’t be measured, because I’m pretty sure I would have broken a record.
Here’s a sample of one of the shows:
Me: “…I got a call from my dad today. I don’t think Dad has…”
Gaggle Member: “SHE’S GETTING MARRIED NEXT WEEK!”
Entire Gaggle: “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Me: “Okay, that’s great. So anyway, my parents are like…”
Gaggle Coordinator: “Excuse me!!! In case you didn’t hear, she’s getting married!”
Entire Gaggle: “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”
Multiply that by 25 minutes and you’ve got yourself a transcript. Dear God in Heaven it was annoying. If gaggles traditionally hit the town with their bachelor party counterparts, I bet there would be lawyer vendors on the premises selling prenups.
Okay, I’m done. Thank you for letting me vent a little bit. It relaxes me. Just so you know, no bachelorettes were harmed in the making of this column, unfortunately. And if I have offended any of you, you can suck it. No buck required.