Wednesday, October 1, 2008

What happens in Reno goes on the Internet.

I have drawn straws to see which will story from my trip to Reno will be told today and the winner is: Molly's Bachelorette Party!

Big surprise, huh?

It was one of those nights that was fun without being too over-the-top. The next morning I woke up and thought, "Why am I so hungover? I didn't even drink that much." Then I looked back at my pictures and realized sometimes quality, not quantity, is what grants a hangover.

Now's as good a time as any to try J├Ąger for the first time.

I yelled, "Jamaica Me Crazy!" at the surly bartender and waited to sign the receipt with a penis pen party favor in my mouth.

Drinking from a bowl usually spells trouble.

I was not the only one with a blurred line of reality the next morning. When we awoke in our free hotel room at the Circus Circus Casino (every bit as classy as it sounds) and dragged ourselves out of bed (Molly in nothing but a g-string, me in the black pajamas trimmed with red pom-poms that were a "Welcome to Reno" gift from my mother-in-law), the first thing she said was, "I don't know what the deal was last night but I could not get drunk!"

"Really? You seemed kinda drunk to me?"

"When?" She asked this accusingly, like I was trying to make her feel bad for something she hadn't even done.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe like the whole night."

"Hmmph. What about my list? Did I do everything I was supposed to do?"

"I don't think you did everything but the one's you did were pretty awesome."

"Like what?"

"Well, the dance off for one. That was amazing."

"What dance off?"

I pulled out my digital camera and filled Molly in on her Oscar-worthy role as bachelorette. We laughed ourselves silly as her faded memory slowly came back into focus. Here are a few shots (and video!) of her not being drunk. Poor thing just couldn't get her buzz on.

The dueling piano players called her up on stage to congratulate her on her upcoming wedding. It was all fun and games until they made her get on the piano doggy style.

Here she is after winning an Irish Car Bomb chugging contest with some guy at the bar. Notice the Guinness running down her chin? Hot.

Yeah, that's me and my sister. Mmm hmm, enough said.


And that, my friends, is a dance off. See how they take turns, spurring each other on to top that? How they communicate without saying a word? This is not the kind of thing that can be planned or rehearsed. No. This is the kind of thing that just happens as you're walking past a casino lounge act and see one man, a super fan if you will, dancing by himself with moves that could only be rivaled by a bride-to-be like my sister. She killed it. (Note her signature Michael Jackson leg kick? She says it's a sign that she's had too much to drink. Her friends have been instructed to watch for it and take her home immediately if it makes an appearance. We chose to ignore it just this once.)

I had to smack her in the head at the club because she was letting some guy dance up on her. She looked at me like, "Wha...?" and then went back to jumping around to 50 Cent. I should have known; the leg kick doesn't lie. If she's told me once, she's told me a hundred times: once the leg is kicked, she is no longer responsible for her actions.

Now this is happening. Oh, what? You think I'm scared because my 3 am breakfast burger came with TWO meat patties and a LOAF of bread? Whatever. I eat burgers like this in my sleep. Give her a challenge and she'll take it on. What can I say? The girl plays to win.

The whole night was fun but I think the highlight for me was when I got my ass grabbed at the piano bar. I was walking from the stage back to our table to refuel with a bowl of liquor when it happened. I spun around to see who the hell was touching me and was met with the sheepish grins of four relatively normal looking people (three guys and a girl). The guy closest to me said, "I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. We've been wanting to do that since you walked in." What could I say? I nodded solemnly and said, "I totally understand."

Thank you to all the lovely ladies who put together such a fun night for my sister! Molly is one lucky girl. Big kisses from Nashville - mmwaahh!

In editing this piece, I found it interesting that "bachelorette" is not actually a word. I mean, it is in the sense that we all use it and have agreed that b-a-c-h-e-l-o-r-e-t-t-e is the correct way to spell it; but it isn't in the sense that it doesn't come up in spell check or on Is it possible we made up a word for the sole purpose of party-planning? How clever is that?


Anna said...

ok, THAT is the funniest dance video ever...the leg kick is probably the best thing i've ever seen!

Katie said...

The leg kick is Michael Jackson?!?? I was totally thinking she was doing The Elaine.

Jen said...

Oh my goodness!!!! I can't believe it all actually happened. Thanks for putting this up for all of us to enjoy! I will never, never forget that amazing dance off, or the amazing meal that followed.

Steph said...

I have just recently found your blog and have read a few posts and have to say this night looked like a blast. I know Molly from high school (she was a year ahead of me) and know her as nothing different than super outgoing and such a blast - which you can see from these pictures! The dance off was cracking me up!

Anonymous said...

ah, yes... the bachelorette party. A few comments:
1. When asked to get in the "doggy style" position on a piano in front of a lot of people, your only choice is to act like you were born for this very thing. Anything less just makes the whole thing more embarrassing.
2. The leg kick NEVER lies. Of course I woke up in my underwear thinking I had a nice, calm, respectable night.
3. I want that double burger right now.

Thanks for posting- I feel like such a star!