There I was at the bachelorette party. I was the designated driver because the shower was for my sister's best friend, so I figured she deserved to get as silly as she wanted to. So keep in mind that I am stone sober for all of this. Everything was good until the entertainment arrived. Now, I am not a prude. I like to think of myself as fairly laid back and open minded. That is until last night when I went to my first "stripper at a private party" party.
I was SHOCKED!!!! I blushed. I had to leave the room for bits of time. And then my sister--well into the vodka by this time--points to me and sends our guy my way. I was terrified and horrified all at once. You see, he kept picking the women up. As a forever fatty, having a guy try to pick me up fills me with fear. I used to hang out with a guy that was always picked up his friends. (I was young. Don't ask.) Anytime he tried to pick me up, I dropped to the ground like a sack of flour. It was the only way I knew to make him stop. Humiliating. We are no longer friends.
Anyway, there I was in the middle of the floor swaying with terror when I said to Messy, "I am too heavy. Please don't pick me up. You'll drop me on my head and I will be paralyzed." I swear to you that is exactly the ridiculous thing I said to the stripper. He says, "Relax." As if. Then he lifted me up and ordered me to put my legs around his waist. I was so scared that I did. He released one hand and started dancing and said "Look. One hand." I was dumbfounded.
After the show, as he handed me a card in case I want to book him for another party, he said, "I told you you weren't heavy." Say what???? YES I AM. I told him that I have lost a lot of weight recently so I guess I haven't processed it yet. I HAVE NO FILTER. The stripper does not care about my weight loss for chrissakes. He just wanted a tip!!! But he responded, "well get used to guys being able to pick you up and toss you around now." I tipped him.
Not because I want to be "tossed around" (well kinda), but because without even knowing it, he gave me such a great NSV. A man--albeit a very muscley one--picked me up and didn't break his back or grunt with the effort. Thanks, Messy. I owe you one.
The other highlight of the night was the bartender. He is a personal trainer who was doing a favor for a friend. We talked all night. I am hoping that he asks our mutual friend for my number. Ladies, please please pray because, well . . . look at him:
And for good measure here is a picture of me and my sister. The bridesmaids all wore bustiers. She does not normally dress like a French hooker, but she looked damn good.
|wish my arm wasn't so fat, but look at that tiny curve at the waist!!!|