My Stripper Name Is "Trixie"
My friend Holly is engaged, and it looks like it's going to "take"-- so this weekend another of our high school friends (Britta the Tick Girl) organized a nice little middle-class bacchanalia complete with bright pink penis-themed utensils, pink penis noisemakers, Annie Lennox theme music and charming little beefcake party plates. It was very Martha Stewart-ish.
Britta also had the foresight to bring fizzy champagne and a bunch of hilariously gigantic phallus cookies that we decorated ourselves (I made mine look like it was winking). These had to be baked at her grandmother's house, so her grandmother was dutifully invited into the kitchen for a viewing... "No that's okay, I've seen plenty" was the bemused response.
The Bride-To-Be wore a veil and an obnoxious corsage. The rest of us wore pink name tags that were supposed to have our porn star names (i.e., your first pet's name plus your childhood address). However, the tags were a bit too short for names like "Pippy Seabreeze", "Chewie Lemon" and "Pumpkin Oak Forest". So we trotted around with generic stripper names instead: Cuddles, Spanky, Chiffon, Bubbles, Ms. Beaverhausen (in teensy tiny letters) and Trixie (me).
Other than the fact that we drank bubble-gum flavored "sangria" and listened to Terrible music at a tacky bar called "Howl At The Moon", I was struck by how much the "bachelorette party" has in common with ancient fertility customs...
1. Wine was a symbol of the Greek god Bacchus and was generally held to be an aphrodisiac.
2. Barley was frequently used to represent the female genitalia.
3. Many cultures have used various phallic symbols to represent fertility. (Today in Japan, you can still find small votive offerings being left at certain stone pillars).
But we were really quite conservative compared to our ancestors. We didn't sacrifice small animals; we didn't shave her head; we didn't make her eat anything disgusting. We didn't even have a stripper.
***
Around 2 a.m. I finally caught a ride with a very nice cab driver, who is required by Florida law to be a friendly Haitian named Joseph. Joseph and I chatted for a bit about the weather and the fact that I cannot speak French, which made him quite melancholy. I tipped him handsomely.
Then I went home to sleep.
The End.
Britta also had the foresight to bring fizzy champagne and a bunch of hilariously gigantic phallus cookies that we decorated ourselves (I made mine look like it was winking). These had to be baked at her grandmother's house, so her grandmother was dutifully invited into the kitchen for a viewing... "No that's okay, I've seen plenty" was the bemused response.
The Bride-To-Be wore a veil and an obnoxious corsage. The rest of us wore pink name tags that were supposed to have our porn star names (i.e., your first pet's name plus your childhood address). However, the tags were a bit too short for names like "Pippy Seabreeze", "Chewie Lemon" and "Pumpkin Oak Forest". So we trotted around with generic stripper names instead: Cuddles, Spanky, Chiffon, Bubbles, Ms. Beaverhausen (in teensy tiny letters) and Trixie (me).
Other than the fact that we drank bubble-gum flavored "sangria" and listened to Terrible music at a tacky bar called "Howl At The Moon", I was struck by how much the "bachelorette party" has in common with ancient fertility customs...
1. Wine was a symbol of the Greek god Bacchus and was generally held to be an aphrodisiac.
2. Barley was frequently used to represent the female genitalia.
3. Many cultures have used various phallic symbols to represent fertility. (Today in Japan, you can still find small votive offerings being left at certain stone pillars).
But we were really quite conservative compared to our ancestors. We didn't sacrifice small animals; we didn't shave her head; we didn't make her eat anything disgusting. We didn't even have a stripper.
***
Around 2 a.m. I finally caught a ride with a very nice cab driver, who is required by Florida law to be a friendly Haitian named Joseph. Joseph and I chatted for a bit about the weather and the fact that I cannot speak French, which made him quite melancholy. I tipped him handsomely.
Then I went home to sleep.
The End.
posted by L at 8:10 PM
16 Comments:
Oh, but you left before the best part of the evening! The Castle was a blast and I even got in free since I was wearing an obsence singing penis corage and silly tiara on my head. (No sign of them that cannont be be named.) I scored a free drink off a very good kisser. Some 21 year old told me I was the coolest bride he ever met ('course, I kissed him too.) Britta took away my "A Buck A Kiss" flashing button, because I was taking it too literally and wasn't charging a buck (that drink cost at least $4 though.)
P.S. Ms. Beaverhousen was in small letters to fit on the name tag.
MY GOD woman!!! You are still DRUNK!! Just look at your spelling!
Oh yea, you missed the grand condom giveaway too. Laura Lea had a bag full of them for all of us. I feld like I was back in college.
I'm going to get divorced and re-marry just so I can have you and your friends throw me a bachelorette party. You will do it for me, won't you? All those penises sounded so much more fun than my party where we didn't even have the foresight to get a stripper. THE SHAME. We did, howvever, get trashed and go to a karaoke bar. Just like any other night of the week really...
middle-class? martha stewart? that's a low blow L. And yes, I did take away Holly's "A Buck a Kiss" pin because she apparently thought it was a "A Buck a one minute long French kiss" pin. And considering her husband-to-be's sister was watching the whole scene without amusement, I think the intervention was appropriate. And as far as the grand condom giveaway goes, I never got a single one. I think the bride took them all home.
it was a compliment ;)
you ARE the Martha Stewart of Bachelorette parties -- it was very well-planned!
Frally: I would definitely throw you a bachelorette party if you got divorced and came to Florida :)
Sounds like fun! I can't wait for the next of my friends to get married now! Last one we had included a condom top hat for the bride. Howl at the Moon is fun to sing at if you're really drunk!
Sounds like more fun than 6 hours of porno movies, cards and getting sh*t faced.
Guys just aren't creative...
It was a lot of fun... I'm still bummed that I had to leave early (very tired)...
That's funny...the last bachelorette party I went to was in San Antonio and we ended up at a bar called "Howl at the Moon", too. And "Dick's Last Resort" that will give you a drink called the "blow job" if you are the bachelorette.
Ahh, those were the days. Sounds like you had a blast!
'Joseph' just doesn't convey enough french-ness to me. The guy seems to be on the wrong end of the country if he's looking for le francais.
You guys do have a way with parties, very cool.
We just got our tee-totaller groomsmen plastered and laughed at his misery the next day.
yes, Farthing Rogers is much pornier than Pippy Seabreeze ;)
You get a boatload of comments when you put the word "stripper" in the headline, don't you?
I guess so. Maybe I could write a whole series of posts related to strippers. Stripper fashion, Stripping techniques, bimbo economics, etc.
Hey! I think I will do a post about bimbo economics -- that is the very foundation of Tampa! We couldn't survive without it.
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