Quotes of the day (or introducing Americans to poutine)

It feels as though the last post sucked me dry. It had been following me along for so long, initially as a series of scattered ideas, then as a handful of metaphors and memories in my draft folder. It was almost as though the catharsis was too effective, leaving my brain a little barren. It's scary to think that my typing fingers may be getting a little rusty...

However, there's nothing like a bachelorette party for a few random anecdotes...

***

"My bum is jealous."

After some pre-drinking, I had my first stripper experience.

While I'm not the type of person to be uptight about nudity, I always found the notion of women going to see female strippers a bit too cliche. It seemed sort of like making out with a girlfriend on a table at a night club-- more about the attention than the actual experience. However, celebrating a friend's last big hurrah before her May wedding seemed as good of an excuse for nudity as any.

And so I found myself sitting in pervert's row, watching a woman dressed as a mermaid dance to "Kiss the Girl". My childhood memories wishing I was Ariel seemed a little corrupt at that moment-- Disney gone wild indeed.

The specific quote came out of my mouth after Officer Kyla shook her assets in my face. Seriously, there's nothing like high class exotic dancers to motivate you to get to the gym-- and to learn to use the monkey bars in a whole new way.

***

"I can feel the drool running down the cheese curds."

After the strippers, we made our way to a night club, where the bride-to-be was subject to a list of tasks in order to generate points. For instance, building a man's sexual anatomy was worth 2 points, getting a piggy back from a stranger was worth 15 points, and getting a man to put money in your bra was worth 50 points. Although technically she just had to obtain 60 points to be declared a "groovy chick", and 121 to be a party girl, as the bride to be put it "I'm a grad student, therefore I'm a perfectionist. I'm not stopping 'til I get total vixen status!"

Unfortunately, if there's anything consistent about bachelorette parties, it's the power of a goofy veil to bring out the sleezy men. My technique? Trying to convince would be suitors that I was actually 37 years old with 3 kids at home. 

After several hours of drinking, it was decided that the night wouldn't be complete without some late night poutine.

This actually was an initiation of sort for a number of the party-goers, who were from the States-- including the bride-to-be. You can distinguish between the Americans and the Canadians simply by virtue of whether they think fries smothered in gravy and cheese are a craveworthy midnight snack. The lady of the night looked rather appalled as we dove in. However, most humourous was when a friend (also a poutine virgin) made the declaration above, as he desperately tried to suck in dangling melted cheese curds. 

***

"If I had a day like in Groundhog's Day, where you know you get to relive it over again with no one remembering, I would make it my mission to unpop as many collars as possible."

Just a random observation on my part while enjoying crepes on a sunny patio this morning.