No Man Has Gone Before
Last night I figured out the answer to one of the most troubling questions
plaguing men throughout the ages: how to attend a bachelorette party.
Actually, I discovered two ways for a man to attend without risking having
the police called on him: if he is eight months of age (women always love
babies) or if he can cook. Of course, a man can attend such an engagement as a stripper, but I
dont count that because its in a professional capacity and any party
you attend because youre getting paid just isnt quite the same.
As far as being eight months of age, eight years is about the youngest I
can regress to, so I had to rely on my cooking skills to sneak in.
Now the major difference between bachelor and bachelorette parties is that
at a bachelor party the men view it as a last fling, a test of endurance.
Its all about staying up as late as possible, going to as many bars as
possible, and drinking as much as possible. Who cares about food?
Beer and pretzels provide enough fuel to get a man through the weekend.
Women, when reduced to desperate circumstances, can also survive on such
meager fare but given the choice, theyd rather be pampered.
This concept is so key that Ill repeat it for all the men out there:
Women like to be pampered.
Look at the facts. A guy plans a hiking trip, fully prepared to
and even excited about eating beans out of a can. A woman, on
the other hand, will bring real food and even a pan out of her kitchen in
which to cook it. Guys just dont understand it; that frying pan
takes up the space of another six-pack of beer. To the women,
however, the tradeoff of having a decent meal is worth it.
Like all important discoveries, I stumbled across this one by accident.
Rebecca offered to throw the bachelorette party for a dear friend of ours,
running Friday night through Sunday. Translation: I would have to
find some other place to sleep for two nights. A year ago, this
would have been a golden opportunity for me to raise a little hell of my
own. Not such an opportunity when I have my eight month old son
Skylar with me. Its just not the same. He wants to go to
bed when all the good bars are just opening their doors. And who can
I stay with? My wife is kicking me out of the house for two days.
Oh, by the way, Ill have my son with me and he wakes up crying twice
during the night. Can I stay with you? Its the sort of
situation where you find out who your true friends really are.
I told Rebecca I had a place to stay, but about eight oclock I was
getting a little nervous because it was a bold-faced lie. I wasnt
worried about food; I know where theres an all-night 7-11 where I could
pick up the essential beer and pretzels. My last resort plan was to
sleep in the park but it had the glaring hitch that a cop might stop and
investigate if he saw a port-a-crib set up on the grass. My
apprehension increased as the ladies began to arrive.
Thats when the stroke of desperate brilliance struck: Ill bet
their hungry from their drive, I said to Rebecca. And then I took
over the kitchen, shooing them all out so I could dig through the
cookbooks for some elaborate food that would take hours to prepare.
I wanted everything to be perfect, because that meant that it would take
forever to make, it would get late, they would get drunk, and then I could
sneak off to sleep in my own bed without anyone noticing.
Eight hungry women is quite a sight, and I played them ruthlessly.
Having a man around was just wrong at a bachelorette party, but then again
I was cooking for them. And I washed the dishes. I was going
to pour their drinks too, just to leave nothing to chance, but that turned
out to be an unnecessary precaution given the dozens of dead soldiers I
discovered when I finally served them dinner just after midnight.
While all that pampering was a lot of work, I think I came out ahead in
the end; when it came time to dog the men in their lives and EVERY guy
gets dogged none of the ladies could find it in their hearts to
remember anything disparaging about the guy who was slaving away in the
kitchen on their behalf.
I do have to make special note about the other guy who attended the party,
the one who was eight months old. He didnt have to clean any
dishes, he got held by ladies all night long, and I have the pictures
to prove it he had eight women in his bedroom all at the same time, a
feat few men in world can lay claim to.
Makes a father proud.