…did not exactly go smashingly.  Here’s what happened.


I was informed on Wednesday that we would not be going to Cedar Point because many of the girls that were going to go didn’t have the money.  This would have been great if they had told me sooner, because at work on Monday, they were selling tickets to King’s Island for $12 each.  But no, no one told me.  Instead, the maid-of-honor, who had never even been to a bachelorette party before, turned to me to plan the festivities.  Great.


Because the bride-to-be has never been out in our great capitol city before, I decided that’s exactly what she needed to do.  The problem is, she’s very much a homebody.  She just wanted to stay in our less-than-exciting town, and not even stay out late.  Case in point:  she went into work and requested that she work the day after her bachelorette party at 10 a.m.  That’s just not cool.  I know the party is for her and all, but she needs to be brought out of her bubble.  So I had planned a night out in Broad Ripple, with lots of dancing and flirting and such. 


Four of us ladies met the bachelorette at her house, then went on to meet her mom at a restaurant for some pre-party chow.  After that, we all (sans her mother) piled into someone’s car and headed off down the road for Broad Ripple.  Much to our dismay, 10-15 minutes down the road, the tire blew.  And when I say that really it exploded, I am not exaggerating.  Behold:


Picture 017


 


And once again, with feeling:


Picture 022


Ah, yes.  You’d be surprised (or maybe not) by the amount of attention five women get when stranded on the side of the highway.  A particularly good-looking man saw our tire blow and pulled over  proceeding to help us for the next 45 minutes in trying to get the tire off of the car.  We even got a Fishers officer, and a state cop.  Since everyone in the group was married or engaged except myself, they were trying to get me to chat up our knight in shining armor.  But alas, I did not feel the inspiration to flirt with a man on the side of the road, never mind that I could tell he was just not my type (no matter how cute).  After much kicking and hitting the tire with a mallet, it was decided that the rim was bent, and it was not going to come off.  At this time, the bachelorette (pictured above) remembered that she has AAA.  So she called them and we waited another 40 minutes for the tow truck to get there. 


By the time everyone got back at her house, she had decided that it was too late to go to Indy, and probably we should just party in town. Bleh.  I was not happy about this, nor was the maid of honor, but the bachelorette was overjoyed that she had yet another excuse not to go out.  We went to a place that is relatively the best place to go out in town, Shouts.  But once we got there, there was NO ONE there.  And I really mean that.  On any night, especially Thursday through Saturday, you can find the place packed, standing room only.  But on the weird twilight zone night, only the bartenders, the dj, and two guys playing pool were present.  I protested, but we went in anyway.  I had one drink and no more, as I was the one driving.  We didn’t really stay there long at all, and my mind was occupied with other, stranger things anyways, of a nature that I won’t write about on here.


On a side note, if anyone was wondering about the airbrush tan I got…well…I bought a package of five when I went in first, thinking it would turn out well.  My mistake, and of course they don’t offer refunds.  My body looked naturally tan, except for my face and arms, which, turns out, are the only things visible on a regular basis.  They were oompa-loompa colored.  Lucky me.  It has faded quite a bit by today, but the fact remains that I have paid for four more of them…let’s see, when will there be a time when I will not have to be in public for a few days at a time?  Oh yes, never.  Thanks for that.

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