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As unbelievable as it may sound given that I used to co-host a late
night show that featured scantily clad women, I only attended a stag
party for the first time early this year. I have to say, for all the
hype I’ve heard and movies I’ve seen, it was a fairly
anticlimactic event. It was like watching a space shuttle launch
with the rockets malfunctioning, or like going to a buffet and
finding out all the food was plastic, or like going to a
gentleman’s club were all the women were fully clothed in burqas,
not that I’ve been.
The disappointment started when I walked into
the hotel suite and found fifty guys drinking beer and eating
hotdogs: it was a sausage fest literally and figuratively. There
were no girls in sight so I thought, “Either I’m early or I’m
the appetizer.” Luckily, the girls were just running late.
Regardless, I’ve always thought booze, high testosterone levels,
and a ratio of 25 men for every woman was never a good thing.
The letdown got worse at the arrival of the
escorts, or strippers, or whatever euphemism you want to use for
whore. They looked—what’s the word I’m looking for—poor.
Call me condescending, but you get what you pay for and P2,000
won’t be getting you Viva Hot Babe type girls. Some of the guys
tried making small talk with these pros but all they got was an
earful of standard sad stories of how hard it is to come up with
tuition money, cash for their mother’s kidney operation, and blah
blah blah.
Then it was time for the lap dance, which was
really awkward because the only sound system in the room was some
dude’s mobile phone with the ring tone of “My Humps” on a
10-second loop. So we had to endure what seemed like an eternity of
the groom-to-be getting groped by two graceless dancers. After a
while, we had to leave the groom-to-be alone with the exotic
dancers. After all, how can you enjoy your last night of
bachelorhood when you’re surrounded by a bunch of half drunk dudes
chanting your name like it was a basketball team.
Now what happened in that room is a mystery to
all of us. My guess is nothing more than clever conversation and a
little teasing. So, ladies, don’t worry when your boyfriend or
fiancé attends a stag party because all he’s gong to do is drink,
chat, watch some TV, play poker and cheer his buddies on.
For your suggestions of where to have the best
stag party, e-mail tim@timtayag.com
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