Now I know how Keith Richards feels every day of his life. Since it only happens once a year or so, I suppose I'll recover. I have no idea how Keith survives. I think he's some kind of superhero. My friend's Bachelor Party Marathon went off fairly well, considering. Like many things, I was happy to participate but also glad that it's over.
In spite of weather forecasts that consisted only of the word "rain", we made it through a rain-free weekend in New York and Philadelphia. Honestly, is anyone held accountable for the accuracy of weather forecasts? If they were to be believed, we would have shit-canned the whole thing. They told us there was an eighty percent chance of rain from Friday night through Sunday morning. Nary a drop. Considering that it's the first weekend in April in the Northeast, we couldn't have asked for better weather.
I got to see Yankee Stadium again. I was there about 12 years ago, but since they're tearing it down after this season, I took the opportunity to miss most of the inconsequential regular-season baseball game and walk around the place taking it in.
It was also my first ride in the New York subway. Hard to believe. Everything you've heard about [something] being like Grand Central Station is true. The place is an organized madhouse. Thousands of people purposely wandering around and amazingly getting where they need to go. It's a long ride from the city to the Bronx, especially when we had to stand for all of it. I tried to figure out when you had to get to the train in order to get a seat. I figured that the people sitting down have been there for days, riding back and forth, afraid to give up their seat.
The Stadium is kind of a dump, but it's historic, so the dump factor is minimized. Fenway Park is a dump too, but there isn't the history somehow. After the game, it was back to the train and more wandering, trying to find a place with a big enough table to accomodate 11 people and our beer. By the time we got back to the hotel it was 3:15. A long day of driving, standing around and drinking. At 9:00, it was up and at 'em for my drive home and their drive to their hotel in Philadelphia.
The City Tavern is a great place. Amazingly, I had never been there before, and because of this little event, I've now been there twice in a month. After the meal, we found a nice little bar on Chestnut Street that was hosting at least one Bachelorette Party. One of the parties found our little party, and I remember this girl having a deck of cards with different drinks on them and little odd things to do. I remember carrying her around on my back for a while and ordering a shot called a Fuzzy Nipple. Naturally, the one I got along with turned out to be the pending bride. Screwed again.
After that, they insisted on going to a strip club called Delilah's Den, a short cab ride away. At one point, a bunch of women came parading down a flight of stairs, looking like the opening of Deal or No Deal, except there were no suitcases, the girls were topless and the Deal was that the girls got to keep the money. More debauchery ensued. I think it was 4:30 when Saturday evening (Sunday morning) came to a close.
It's nearly 9pm on Sunday and I'm just starting to regain consciousness. In hindsight, the Saturday follow-up party in Philly was probably a little too much. Most of us were beat by midnight, and several of his friends bailed, leaving only 5 of us at the end.
As you no doubt can tell, I've left out several interesting details. Dying with a secret is a life goal of mine.