Anchor ads are not supported on this page.

4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs

Girls Going Wild

The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.

-- Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde

Bachelorette Party (B.P.) -- An event at which a bride-to-be drinks excessive amounts of alcohol and is forced to perform humiliating tasks while her groom is at a separate location, licking whipped cream off of a strange woman's body. Well, at least that's how it's widely perceived.

As a woman approaching 30, I've attended my fair share of these "last hurrahs" for ladies, beginning seven years ago with my sister Faye.

Sponsored
Sponsored

I recall standing in the center of the dressed-up pack of women as we waited in line at one of downtown's many "meat markets" for the bouncer to card us. This would be the debut of my second fake I.D. (the first was retired when it generated laughter instead of admission). When it was my turn to proffer the new card, my heart raced. The large man with a small flashlight looked at the card in his hand, then at me, then at the card, then up at me, now with a scowl. I'd spent hours practicing someone else's signature, should the veracity of my laminated entrée into the adult world be put to the test. I started when he said, "All right Kristen, go ahead. Next!" I'd almost corrected him when I realized he'd allowed me entry, so I scooted inside with the others.

Like a scavenger hunt, Faye's friends had come up with a list of items she'd have to obtain, mostly by sweet-talking men at the bar. She had to collect everything from a free drink and buttons to a man's socks and underpants! Focused on her task, Faye began asking men to help her out, and I decided to assist. To everyone's shock and amusement, a short man with a pink face and fair hair (sufficiently drunk and standing between the bar full of people and the table full of bachelorettes) unfastened his jeans, dropped them to the floor, and ripped his boxers from his body. I have a photo of him mid-rip, face beet-red, vessels on his forehead visible from the strain.

Laughter and exclamations of "Aww, man! That had to hurt!" filled the area. I held out my hand, and smiling with satisfaction at my success (What, you think he just "came up" with the idea?), I collected the destroyed undergarments for Faye's booty stash. After I convinced the manager not to throw my poor pawn out of the bar for his offensive display, I returned to the table.

I learned that no two B.P.s are the same. If I have any say in the party plans, I nix the use of veils. I don't know why it bothers me so much to see a gaggle of girls surrounding their veil-topped sacrifice. Most likely, it has to do with the myriad experiences I've had with such groups downtown -- they're drunk, loud, annoying, and that veil looks tacky. Faye did not wear one, nor did our sister Jane during her bachelorette weekend in Vegas. She opted for fake teeth, so that men approaching, ready to deliver a smooth line, would quickly search for excuses and back away as she flashed a broad smile.

My sisters are goody-goodies (this badness ain't hereditary), so it was a few years before I got to see a male dancer at a party. Though men tearing their clothes from their muscular bodies and making love to you with their eyes as they gyrate about the floor have their appeal, I've found that there's always someone in the crowd who can't handle the heat. Once, after enjoying two average-looking guys in leopard thongs cavorting about a friend's living room, the evening turned awkward. First, the boogying boys were friends of the groom, and second, at least one of the girls (perhaps including the bride-to-be) had fucked at least one of the guys, and another would end up fucking him after that night. Eeeww.

Diva tip: If you are going to hire a stripper for an erotic effect, make sure it's someone you don't know. We were still playing a dick game at my friend Renee's B.P. and ready to cut the penis cake (don't ask), when someone turned the music up LOUD. A man came bounding up the stairs, wearing a ski mask and pajamas. He energetically danced and stripped, revealing a tight, fit body and a small thong with a big bulge. But those eyes looked familiar.... It's not fair to the single women in the crowd when the fantasy of the unknown becomes the familiarity of a friend.

We laughed hysterically (it's not often one sees a thong that consists of a small elephant face with a long trunk fronting for a man's wobbly bits). Few of us were single and/or fantasizing. It was more humorous than hot, which worked perfectly for this crowd. Still laughing, I bid them farewell as the remaining women prepared Renee for an excursion to a local bar by dressing her in a shirt fixed with dozens of lifesavers for random men to "suck off."

Each party was fun in its own way, but the most recent one takes the wedding cake. My friend Gee, Korean by blood and American in spirit, decided she wanted to have her party in San Francisco. Taking a trip out of town isn't cheap, but I considered it a little vacation with friends worthy of the time and money.

Friday, a handful of women and Eddie, a.k.a. Cabana Boy (a weekend with the girls is not complete without a Cabana Boy), arrived at the hip hotel within steps of Chinatown. We checked in -- me to my own room, because I insist on space and privacy, and everyone else to a fancy suite.

I was relieved to learn that Gee had no intention of wearing a veil, and the ladies -- Jen (recently married to Jim), Shonda, Alex, and Eddie -- were all in agreement. I heard that for Jen's B.P., someone creative decided that they would wear short pink wigs, with the bride sporting a shiny white wig.

At a Persian restaurant that night, we forced Gee to wear a red fez and compete in a dance contest while the rest of us cheered and slipped her dollars, as we had done earlier with the professional belly dancer. Saturday, I escorted the crew on a three-mile walking tour of one of the few female fetish stores in California, Madame S (the feminine side of the famous Mr. S Leather Company & Fetters). After we had perused their products and I had expounded the pleasures of several mysterious devices, we continued our peripatetic tour of the city and chanced upon Good Vibrations, another delightfully naughty store. Here, one of the girls purchased a vibrating rubber ducky to accompany the "fetish starter kit" I had procured for the newlyweds from Madame S.

That night we went to Ruby Skye, the hip club in S.F. Our private VIP booth (only the swankiest will do for this crowd) came with its own server, who happens to be an old acquaintance, Robin -- a film student/fetish model/photographer/dj and more -- who used to hang in San Diego. The girls were dancing downstairs, and I was enjoying my third or fourth vodka-something, when two women snuck past the rope separating my group from the common people and sat in front of me.

With a wave of the fingers and a pointed look at the bouncer, the wretched refuse teeming on my shore was removed. You don't fork over several hundred dollars just to allow random strangers to sit at your table. That night, we paid for preferential treatment, and we got it.

This ideal B.P. had as much to do with who we were as where we were. Traditionally, for a young woman of little experience (read: child bride or she who was sheltered by a family of religious zealots), the B.P. is a time to sow wild oats, to "let loose" and get it out of her system lest she be distracted from her duties as a good wife and mother. But many in Gee's posse already have collections of men's undergarments. We've already been drunk and done silly and disgusting things for no apparent reason.

Instead of making asses of ourselves and embarrassing Gee, we shopped, we talked, we danced, and we dined. I can't think of a better weekend away with the girls than that, B.P. or no B.P.

Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

India Hawthorne is common in coastal gardens, Citrus trees are in full bloom

The vernal equinox is on March 19
Next Article

Gonzo Report: Stinkfoot Orchestra conjures Zappa at Winstons

His music is a blend of technical excellence and not-so-subtle humor

The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.

-- Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde

Bachelorette Party (B.P.) -- An event at which a bride-to-be drinks excessive amounts of alcohol and is forced to perform humiliating tasks while her groom is at a separate location, licking whipped cream off of a strange woman's body. Well, at least that's how it's widely perceived.

As a woman approaching 30, I've attended my fair share of these "last hurrahs" for ladies, beginning seven years ago with my sister Faye.

Sponsored
Sponsored

I recall standing in the center of the dressed-up pack of women as we waited in line at one of downtown's many "meat markets" for the bouncer to card us. This would be the debut of my second fake I.D. (the first was retired when it generated laughter instead of admission). When it was my turn to proffer the new card, my heart raced. The large man with a small flashlight looked at the card in his hand, then at me, then at the card, then up at me, now with a scowl. I'd spent hours practicing someone else's signature, should the veracity of my laminated entrée into the adult world be put to the test. I started when he said, "All right Kristen, go ahead. Next!" I'd almost corrected him when I realized he'd allowed me entry, so I scooted inside with the others.

Like a scavenger hunt, Faye's friends had come up with a list of items she'd have to obtain, mostly by sweet-talking men at the bar. She had to collect everything from a free drink and buttons to a man's socks and underpants! Focused on her task, Faye began asking men to help her out, and I decided to assist. To everyone's shock and amusement, a short man with a pink face and fair hair (sufficiently drunk and standing between the bar full of people and the table full of bachelorettes) unfastened his jeans, dropped them to the floor, and ripped his boxers from his body. I have a photo of him mid-rip, face beet-red, vessels on his forehead visible from the strain.

Laughter and exclamations of "Aww, man! That had to hurt!" filled the area. I held out my hand, and smiling with satisfaction at my success (What, you think he just "came up" with the idea?), I collected the destroyed undergarments for Faye's booty stash. After I convinced the manager not to throw my poor pawn out of the bar for his offensive display, I returned to the table.

I learned that no two B.P.s are the same. If I have any say in the party plans, I nix the use of veils. I don't know why it bothers me so much to see a gaggle of girls surrounding their veil-topped sacrifice. Most likely, it has to do with the myriad experiences I've had with such groups downtown -- they're drunk, loud, annoying, and that veil looks tacky. Faye did not wear one, nor did our sister Jane during her bachelorette weekend in Vegas. She opted for fake teeth, so that men approaching, ready to deliver a smooth line, would quickly search for excuses and back away as she flashed a broad smile.

My sisters are goody-goodies (this badness ain't hereditary), so it was a few years before I got to see a male dancer at a party. Though men tearing their clothes from their muscular bodies and making love to you with their eyes as they gyrate about the floor have their appeal, I've found that there's always someone in the crowd who can't handle the heat. Once, after enjoying two average-looking guys in leopard thongs cavorting about a friend's living room, the evening turned awkward. First, the boogying boys were friends of the groom, and second, at least one of the girls (perhaps including the bride-to-be) had fucked at least one of the guys, and another would end up fucking him after that night. Eeeww.

Diva tip: If you are going to hire a stripper for an erotic effect, make sure it's someone you don't know. We were still playing a dick game at my friend Renee's B.P. and ready to cut the penis cake (don't ask), when someone turned the music up LOUD. A man came bounding up the stairs, wearing a ski mask and pajamas. He energetically danced and stripped, revealing a tight, fit body and a small thong with a big bulge. But those eyes looked familiar.... It's not fair to the single women in the crowd when the fantasy of the unknown becomes the familiarity of a friend.

We laughed hysterically (it's not often one sees a thong that consists of a small elephant face with a long trunk fronting for a man's wobbly bits). Few of us were single and/or fantasizing. It was more humorous than hot, which worked perfectly for this crowd. Still laughing, I bid them farewell as the remaining women prepared Renee for an excursion to a local bar by dressing her in a shirt fixed with dozens of lifesavers for random men to "suck off."

Each party was fun in its own way, but the most recent one takes the wedding cake. My friend Gee, Korean by blood and American in spirit, decided she wanted to have her party in San Francisco. Taking a trip out of town isn't cheap, but I considered it a little vacation with friends worthy of the time and money.

Friday, a handful of women and Eddie, a.k.a. Cabana Boy (a weekend with the girls is not complete without a Cabana Boy), arrived at the hip hotel within steps of Chinatown. We checked in -- me to my own room, because I insist on space and privacy, and everyone else to a fancy suite.

I was relieved to learn that Gee had no intention of wearing a veil, and the ladies -- Jen (recently married to Jim), Shonda, Alex, and Eddie -- were all in agreement. I heard that for Jen's B.P., someone creative decided that they would wear short pink wigs, with the bride sporting a shiny white wig.

At a Persian restaurant that night, we forced Gee to wear a red fez and compete in a dance contest while the rest of us cheered and slipped her dollars, as we had done earlier with the professional belly dancer. Saturday, I escorted the crew on a three-mile walking tour of one of the few female fetish stores in California, Madame S (the feminine side of the famous Mr. S Leather Company & Fetters). After we had perused their products and I had expounded the pleasures of several mysterious devices, we continued our peripatetic tour of the city and chanced upon Good Vibrations, another delightfully naughty store. Here, one of the girls purchased a vibrating rubber ducky to accompany the "fetish starter kit" I had procured for the newlyweds from Madame S.

That night we went to Ruby Skye, the hip club in S.F. Our private VIP booth (only the swankiest will do for this crowd) came with its own server, who happens to be an old acquaintance, Robin -- a film student/fetish model/photographer/dj and more -- who used to hang in San Diego. The girls were dancing downstairs, and I was enjoying my third or fourth vodka-something, when two women snuck past the rope separating my group from the common people and sat in front of me.

With a wave of the fingers and a pointed look at the bouncer, the wretched refuse teeming on my shore was removed. You don't fork over several hundred dollars just to allow random strangers to sit at your table. That night, we paid for preferential treatment, and we got it.

This ideal B.P. had as much to do with who we were as where we were. Traditionally, for a young woman of little experience (read: child bride or she who was sheltered by a family of religious zealots), the B.P. is a time to sow wild oats, to "let loose" and get it out of her system lest she be distracted from her duties as a good wife and mother. But many in Gee's posse already have collections of men's undergarments. We've already been drunk and done silly and disgusting things for no apparent reason.

Instead of making asses of ourselves and embarrassing Gee, we shopped, we talked, we danced, and we dined. I can't think of a better weekend away with the girls than that, B.P. or no B.P.

Comments
Sponsored
Here's something you might be interested in.
Submit a free classified
or view all
Previous article

Coyote tracks in frail San Diego avocado grove

Second place winner in Reader neighborhood writing contest
Next Article

Taco Taco Poway still has 99-cent fish tacos

Tacotopia prizewinner is well known among Powegians
Comments
Ask a Hipster — Advice you didn't know you needed Big Screen — Movie commentary Blurt — Music's inside track Booze News — San Diego spirits Classical Music — Immortal beauty Classifieds — Free and easy Cover Stories — Front-page features Drinks All Around — Bartenders' drink recipes Excerpts — Literary and spiritual excerpts Feast! — Food & drink reviews Feature Stories — Local news & stories Fishing Report — What’s getting hooked from ship and shore From the Archives — Spotlight on the past Golden Dreams — Talk of the town The Gonzo Report — Making the musical scene, or at least reporting from it Letters — Our inbox Movies@Home — Local movie buffs share favorites Movie Reviews — Our critics' picks and pans Musician Interviews — Up close with local artists Neighborhood News from Stringers — Hyperlocal news News Ticker — News & politics Obermeyer — San Diego politics illustrated Outdoors — Weekly changes in flora and fauna Overheard in San Diego — Eavesdropping illustrated Poetry — The old and the new Reader Travel — Travel section built by travelers Reading — The hunt for intellectuals Roam-O-Rama — SoCal's best hiking/biking trails San Diego Beer — Inside San Diego suds SD on the QT — Almost factual news Sheep and Goats — Places of worship Special Issues — The best of Street Style — San Diego streets have style Surf Diego — Real stories from those braving the waves Theater — On stage in San Diego this week Tin Fork — Silver spoon alternative Under the Radar — Matt Potter's undercover work Unforgettable — Long-ago San Diego Unreal Estate — San Diego's priciest pads Your Week — Daily event picks
4S Ranch Allied Gardens Alpine Baja Balboa Park Bankers Hill Barrio Logan Bay Ho Bay Park Black Mountain Ranch Blossom Valley Bonita Bonsall Borrego Springs Boulevard Campo Cardiff-by-the-Sea Carlsbad Carmel Mountain Carmel Valley Chollas View Chula Vista City College City Heights Clairemont College Area Coronado CSU San Marcos Cuyamaca College Del Cerro Del Mar Descanso Downtown San Diego Eastlake East Village El Cajon Emerald Hills Encanto Encinitas Escondido Fallbrook Fletcher Hills Golden Hill Grant Hill Grantville Grossmont College Guatay Harbor Island Hillcrest Imperial Beach Imperial Valley Jacumba Jamacha-Lomita Jamul Julian Kearny Mesa Kensington La Jolla Lakeside La Mesa Lemon Grove Leucadia Liberty Station Lincoln Acres Lincoln Park Linda Vista Little Italy Logan Heights Mesa College Midway District MiraCosta College Miramar Miramar College Mira Mesa Mission Beach Mission Hills Mission Valley Mountain View Mount Hope Mount Laguna National City Nestor Normal Heights North Park Oak Park Ocean Beach Oceanside Old Town Otay Mesa Pacific Beach Pala Palomar College Palomar Mountain Paradise Hills Pauma Valley Pine Valley Point Loma Point Loma Nazarene Potrero Poway Rainbow Ramona Rancho Bernardo Rancho Penasquitos Rancho San Diego Rancho Santa Fe Rolando San Carlos San Marcos San Onofre Santa Ysabel Santee San Ysidro Scripps Ranch SDSU Serra Mesa Shelltown Shelter Island Sherman Heights Skyline Solana Beach Sorrento Valley Southcrest South Park Southwestern College Spring Valley Stockton Talmadge Temecula Tierrasanta Tijuana UCSD University City University Heights USD Valencia Park Valley Center Vista Warner Springs
Close

Anchor ads are not supported on this page.