Weddings. Everyone is getting married. And with all those proposals for eternity, come the weddings. All include their hearty share of weddingness: dresses, hair, shoes, flowers, hotel reservations, gift registries, showers and of course, bachelorette parties.
**By the way, “bachelorette” is not a recognized word in Microsoft. Chauvinists. Women can be single too, Microsoft! As if there isn’t enough pressure…
I’ve recently attended 2 bachelorette parties in the past few months. Both inundated with their fair share of male-genitalia effigies, lingerie and plenty of booze. All of these single-life relics casting a light onto the events to come… you get wasted, open a box with your new lingerie and then pass out having never found a use for those silly effigies that night.
And just like a virgin bride needs to be on her wedding night, I ….was drunk. It was in my sober-less state that I internally pontificated about the American cultural warm-ups to the celebration of the institution of holy matrimony. Mainly.. bachelorette parties.
As we stood at the bar while the bachelorette in her faux veil waited for a shot, I thought, “Wait a sec, there’s an element to this situation that I’ve been overlooking for years that would warrant so many free nights of drinking.” I proclaimed, “Every time I go out it’s a bachelorette party for the mere simple fact that, I, the bridge, am a bachelorette! The only difference between me and the bachelorette in the faux veil is that she is a bachelorette… with a timeline!” Therefore we were celebrating at a bachelorette-with-a-timeline party. Not just a bachelorette party.
I mean, if that’s the case then everywhere I go, it’s a bachelorette party. I go to Jewel to buy some yogurt (and get booze), bachelorette party. I get on the train to go to work (drinking booze), bachelorette party. I do my laundry (while drinking Amstel from a camel-pack), bachelorette party. Hell I’m having a bachelorette party right now on my blog (drunk). Someone buy me a drink! You may ask, “When’s the big day?” To which I would reply, “Someday!” as I put both my palms face up by my chin, tilting my head and giggling as if that really was the first time I heard the word “penis”. (I did just laugh a little bit.)
So there you have it folks. For all those women who sulk about not getting married, live it up. No one said you had to wait for a man to buy a fake veil, get obliterated and scream, “I’m getting married!” I’m a big believer in self-fulfilling prophecy so you may even make it happen for yourself.
And no, I’m not an alcoholic. I’m a bachelorette on a mission to take advantage of a serious rhetorical loophole.
