This post is rated X. Please do not read this post if you have high moral standards. I am describing what happens when a bunch of rowdy nurses get together for another nurse’s bachelorette party. For the rest of you party animals, please read on.
Men think that they have cornered the market on wild parties, but that is the farthest thing from the truth. I recently attended a bachelorette party for a nurse who is getting married soon, and the party was quite festive. The bride-to-be is not a shy little thing, and neither were the 40 other women who were in attendance, most of whom are nurses. Since I’m not a drinker, I was put in charge of making sure that no one did anything that would get them into trouble, or on the front page of the next day’s newspaper. The party was held in the bride-to-be’s home in order to maintain damage control, and to protect partygoers’ reputations.
I had never gone to a bachelorette party before, and I was really amazed by all the products that are made in the shape of a penis. My favorite game involved taking a swing at a penis piñata that was filled with little sex-toys, lotions, and other potions. Partygoers also played toss the ring on the inflatable four-foot penis while the bride-to-be cut into a penis shaped red velvet cake. She gleefully cut into the dessert while she announced that she was circumcising the cake. Do you remember Lorena Bobbitt? The bride-to-be is deadly wicked with a knife, and I hope that the groom hides all of the knives in the house if he and the bride-to be ever get into a fight.
Partygoers were treated to pole dancing lessons sometime during the night. The bride-to-be really got into the swing of things. She took the stripper name of Heidi Deep Thighs. I’m not going to tell you my stripper name, but it had something to do with a big chest. I learned a lot and I was really amazed by our teacher’s performance. Her talents defy the law of gravity. I passed on the pole dance lessons. I didn’t want to risk breaking a hip. A sales person was also in attendance, and she wasn’t selling Tupperware. Partygoers were whipping out their credit cards, and the bride-to-be was awarded $500 in free sexy merchandise based on the total sales. Nurses love to shop. By the end of the night, I had locked up the liquor cabinet, and I called taxis for everyone who couldn’t pass a sobriety test.
I saw the bride-to-be two days later when she came into work. She asked me how she ended up with rug burns on her knees. I told her that she would see what happened when she watches the videotape. She doesn’t remember me videotaping the party. Maybe I should put it on YouTube.