The Bachelorette (Party, That Is)

Song Lyric of the Day:

Shake it shake it baby / Shake it shake it baby / Shake it shake it mama

2Pac featuring Dr. Dre / “California Love”

7:48PM.
I’m still recovering from Vanessa’s bachelorette party Saturday night, my first-ever barhopping experience. What can I say? I’m a late bloomer. In summation:

Samantha, Elizabeth, and I arrived at the Nashville Marriott around 4:30PM Nashville time. We were interested to see that we were there the same weekend as the Blood & Ink convention. Interesting. We made ourselves comfortable in our hotel room, which consisted of us laying on the beds and watching Catwoman; I do a spot-on impression of a slug. Fought off the urge to nap. The movie was so awful (and yet the best thing on TV at the time–go figure), you can’t help but watch. Kind of like when our intrepid president gives a speech. You can’t look away even though you know you should.

Vanessa arrived around 7PM, by which time the rest of us were on the verge of starving to death. Much primping ensued and we finally headed out the door a little before 8PM.

Our cab driver dropped us off in the vicinity of the area clubs we were looking to hit. We ate dinner in a seeming dive that had great, cheap food.

The barhopping commenced soon after. We started out at Stage, a country and western bar. I drank a Rum Runner and bought a round of drinks. We decided we weren’t feeling the country and western and left.

We hit Wanna B’s Karaoke next. Drank a round of Buttery Nipples and got giggly soon afterward (I’m a complete lightweight). Sang along from our table, accompanying a couple on stage during “You’re the One That I Want” from Grease. Got appreciative laughter from our nearby tablemate. Amazed by a duet of “Walking in Memphis.” Had another round of Buttery Nipples and started to feel giddily dizzy soon after. Called Rich to say hi.

Got in for free at Graham Central Station, a multi-floor club with different themes on every floor. Figured it was because of Vanessa’s Future Bride tiara. Got told by a guy that we made him want to la la and realized that even slightly drunk, Ashlee Simpson’s music still sucks.

Went to check out Decade, a club featuring 80’s music, but decided against paying the cover charge.

Started walking by The Red Iguana when Samantha and Elizabeth’s comment that the Knoxville location sucked got us free admittance to the upstairs VIP lounge. Had a Cosmo and started to feel no pain. Called Rich and sent horribly misspelled text messages from Vanessa’s phone. Vaguely remember being photographed by Samantha while using the bathroom and then wrestling the camera away from her to delete the photo. Loosened up and started dancing to all the wonderful urban/hip hop music I normally don’t ever listen to. Had a 9-1-1 and decided the bartender was very attractive despite the near non-existent light and only the vaguest idea of what he actually looked like.

Grabbed a cab back to the hotel and remember laughing the whole way for no particular reason. Samantha and Elizabeth were still sober, while Vanessa was also laughing her ass off in the backseat. We made it to our hotel room where we all basically passed out, with the exception of Vanessa, who couldn’t stop giggling. Vaguely remember beating the hell out of her to get her to shut up and go to sleep.

Woke up the next morning with lank hair and still wearing my makeup, now including racconish mascara eyes. Looked not unlike Alice Cooper.

Checked out and unsuccessfully wandered downtown Nashville searching for a place to grab breakfast or brunch. Gave up looking, parted ways with Vanessa, and headed home.

And that’s the story of the night my little sisters took me on my first barhopping adventure, whereupon I drank the equivalent of what I normally drink over about a four month period.

It was awesome.