A Bachelor's Perfect Day

I absolutely hate camping. I like the sun and the grass and the trees, I like hammocking, and I like watching mud wrestling, but I really hate camping. For a friend's bachelor party on Sunday, we were supposed to camp out that night and float the river the next day. It rained. Thank the rain god, if you haven't already. I already did this ceremonial dance my grandfather once taught me, so I think I'm covered.

We waited until that day to change the plans. At that point, it was too late to rent a cabin or reserve a bowling lane or turn myself into the police (it's better just to wait it out - trust me. I've done this before). We just made a list of manly activities. We had a shrimp boil. We watched three episodes of deadliest warrior (Attila the Hun beats Alexander the Great? Maybe in an alternate reality where Attila rides a bear wearing a turtle shell and Alex is in a wheelchair. Even then - close call. I know this stuff.

We shot aersol cans with a BB gun. We tried to make molotov cocktails. We went to the casino across the border from Siloam Springs, where I lost it all. I lost everything. All twelve dollars. Quarter slots are a harsh mistress. Mostly because they don't talk back. Or move at all.

Last year I went to a bachelor party of a fraternity brother which ran as planned, but it was basically like this. It was a day filled with whatever the groom wanted to do. We played a round of golf. We saw Star Trek. We played Laser Tag. We ate a nice Italian dinner. I guess a stereotypical bachelor party involves promiscuity. That's what I've seen on television during the infomericals between Babylon 5 episodes. In Ireland, these were called stag parties. Once I was invited by an Irish stag party member to their penthouse to snort cocaine. I was a fraternity officer at the time so I had to turn it down, but even so, I don't know if I'd want my last memory of bachelorhood to be not a memory but a blood stain on my khaki pleats (my nose bleeds when I snort anything). I like the idea that a bachelor party is simply the groom's perfect day - everything that he wants to do with his best friends. Girls aren't invited or paid to come because they just distract from the fellowship. And I can't afford most escorts. I know because that was the first backup plan to camping.