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You Gotta Fight For Your Right To Party

By Wyatt Earp | June 22, 2009

Wedding BadgersAnd when my friends get together to throw a bachelor party, it is a blessed miracle when a drunken fight doesn’t break out.

Saturday night was The Badger’s bachelor party, and while I was only able to attend the second half of the festivities, I witnessed enough hilarity to write a dozen blog posts. Of course, decorum limits me to just this one, so I will try to hit all of the most salient points. Here goes.

The guys started the day off with 18 holes of golf. I was pretty peeved that I couldn’t attend because of work . . . until the downpours came along. Then, I giggled a little at their misfortune. It’s what friends do. When I asked Vincent Antonelli how golfing was, he replied, “It sucked. Rained the entire time.” Okay, then!

After golf, the party moved to Philadelphia Park Race Track and Casino. The guys bet on the ponies and spent a lot of time – and money – in the casino. That is where I found them around dinnertime. Sadly, I forgot to eat dinner before I left, so when Vinnie had a Jameson shot waiting for me, I could actually hear my liver say, “Oh, good night!”

While playing catch-up, I took the following in the first hour: one shot of Jameson, two Captain and Cokes, and a Screwdriver. I went from zero to tipsy in less than 60 minutes. It was a good thing that Vinnie and Badger missed the Tipsy exit, and were barreling toward Vomitville. To give you an idea, Badger was playing Blackjack – in between shots and Coronas – and betting well outside his means. Not to worry, because a lot of us had him covered for money, but he was betting so much on the “Bonus” sucker bets that when he won a hand, he actually lost money. Good times.

The rest of the story is below the fold.

Vinnie, for his part, was drunk enough to have misplaced his “inside voice” at the worst possible time. You see, the waitresses on the casino floor were unbelievably attractive. Of course, they probably knew this because Vinnie and Badger were yelling, “God, she’s so hot!” . . . when the girl was directly behind them. Not that I didn’t agree; I did. As you can see, Vinnie did, too:

Vinnie and the Waitress

Yes, I am fairly certain that Vinnie and Randal are twins.

Any hoo, the Blackjack and Poker tables were of the virtual reality variety. You sat at the table in front of a video screen, and a dealer – usually a fabulous babe – ran the game. Toward the end of our stay there, the more inebriated guys would yell at the girl – again, who was just a computer program – for giving them bad cards. “Bitch!” “You suck!” It was a laugh riot. At one point, we were so loud in celebrating our uncommon victories that Paul Blart, Casino Cop came to our table and asked us to keep it down.

Keep it down. In a casino. On a Saturday night. Seriously.

Sensing that was our hint to leave, we gathered our belongings and make for the exits. Unfortunately for me, Badger had not yet found his walking legs, so I “escorted” him out of the building by holding on to his hockey jersey. Mimicking Vinnie’s “inside voice” deficit, Badger was saying all sorts of wonderful things to passersby on the way to the car.

Note to The Badger: Yelling, “I could kick that security guard’s ass!” while walking by said security guard is kind of a faux pas.

Everyone made their way to their vehicles and we proceeded to Casa de Vinnie for dinner – a fabulous barbecue smorgasbord – and Guinness from his BeerMeister. When arrived at Vinnie’s house, a crowd was gathering around Badger’s brother car. My first thought was, “I hope Badger didn’t puke.” It was also my second thought, as the guys confirmed my suspicions. Damn. Apparently, Badger let loose on himself, in front of Vinnie’s house, and inside Sean’s car.

Oh, and did I mention that Sean’s car was a brand new red Ford Mustang convertible?


Didn’t think so.

Suffice to say, Sean was a little irked, so we brought Badger inside to settle his stomach. After a lengthy trip to the bathroom, he emerged looking ill, but otherwise none the worse for wear. He walked over to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat, then sat down on Vinnie’s couch.

And passed out. At his own bachelor party. The time was 8:30pm.

The energy of the party sort of stopped there. The guest of honor was a drunken puddle on the couch, and we were obviously not making any more trips that night. Naturally, we did what any good friends would do . . .

We ate dinner and drank the night away.

In fairness, we did occasionally check to see that Badger was still breathing. I mean, we had to pass him to get to the BeerMeister. Heh. And despite his early bow-out, we all had a terrific time. Hopefully, he can recover in time for the wedding, which is scheduled for the middle of next month.

Topics: Al-key-hol, My Idiot Friends | 6 Comments »

6 Responses to “You Gotta Fight For Your Right To Party”

  1. RT Says:
    June 22nd, 2009 at 8:30 pm

    At least no one was slumped over in a golf cart this time…or upending golf carts.

    Glad you all had fun and congratulations to Badger and Jenn.

  2. Wyatt Earp Says:
    June 22nd, 2009 at 8:40 pm

    RT – Strangely enough, our golf outings are more dangerous than our bachelor parties.

  3. Old NFO Says:
    June 22nd, 2009 at 9:24 pm

    So where were the dancing girls??? :-)

  4. Doghouse Says:
    June 23rd, 2009 at 9:36 am

    Why am I picturing the scene from “Bachelor Party” where the dude says “we’ll have chicks and guns and fire trucks …”?

  5. Deanna Says:
    June 23rd, 2009 at 9:47 am

    Men have weird definitions of fun.

  6. Wyatt Earp Says:
    June 23rd, 2009 at 3:05 pm

    Old NFO – We never got to see any, since Badger passed out so early.

    Doghouse – Now, that would be a party!

    Deanna – That’s because we’re really not that bright.