Recently my best man and I have reached an impasse. We haven’t had much luck figuring out exactly what we want to do for the bachelor party.
I probably ruined everyone’s plan when I said I didn’t want strippers. That was my only stipulation, and Sarah, rightfully so, backed me up 100 percent. This may have caused some planning issues, because in the minds of my groomsmen, the party would consist of at least one naked woman.
With a gentleman’s club out of the question, we have been trying to figure out just exactly what we should do. My best idea was to have a weekend in Vegas. We could get matching face tattoos, eat at the MGM Grand and gamble all our money away at the high rollers table. Unfortunately, we are broke. One of my groomsmen is married with two kids, and the others can’t afford the trip for a myriad of reasons. Mainly because they are poor 20 something’s living on their own.
So what to do? I want Vegas, but Vegas is not a viable option. So we need a plan B. What’s the next best thing to women? Guns. We have access to our own guns that will be used in excess. Guns must be used to get us jazzed for the rest of the night. There have also been ideas of go-karts and paintball, but guns are a necessity.
If at all possible we will go to “Medieval Times” in Schaumburg. After the shooting range we must gorge ourselves on pig and pheasant and drink honey mead while being entertained with knights competing for our sheer pleasure. Plus we get fun little crowns to wear and show how obnoxious we can be.
However, I have no idea what is going on. As far as I know I just tell them what I want and they take care of the rest. I believe that is bachelor party protocol, but that’s how we are handling it. I’m deferring all to my groomsmen. And that is what terrifies me the most.