There were a few things from the bachelorette weekend that I neglected to mention. I didn't want to write about them, but when Sally read the last post, she said "after that whole weekend, the WINE TASTING is the only thing you talked about?" So, I'll tell a few stories.
When we were out dancing, everybody had a blast. We made Sally go up on this balcony that they had, overlooking the entire club. Where everybody watches you as well. Lucy and I were just going to watch, but the bouncer with dreadlocks made us go up there too. The funny thing was, before you went up the ladder, he had us dance for him, to show him "what we got." I, of course, don't have SHIT when it comes to dancing. If dancing means looking like you have to pee/you have a spider on you/you just saw your parents having sex, then I rule at dancing. So when he was asking me to show him my dance moves, I made a joke of it and I went into what looked like a seizure. So then he starts saying "no, slower! slower!" which I did, but then was instantly ashamed of myself because I felt like a whore. And not like a high class whore. Like one of those bad whores. I mean, I still had my entire body covered with my jeans and my plaid shirt, but I still felt it. Sometimes you just can't cover those things up.
So I think after a few minutes he just gave up on me, so I climbed the ladder to join Lucy, Sally, and our cousin on the balcony. Not only did I continue to dance like my retarded self (I totally went against the bouncer's suggestions on slow dirty dancing), but now we were on display for everyone to see. I think a minute passed when Lucy and I decided to get down, so the bouncer was at the bottom of this five step latter type thing. I saw him help her down, holding her arm and stuff, but when I started to come down the ladder, for some reason, he totally just puts his arms under my armpits and carries me down. I don't really know why, because I was making it on my own just fine. I could understand if I was practically falling down the latter, but I wasn't. Maybe he was just trying to play "guess her weight." His answer was probably "a lot."
It's also funny because after we got down from the balcony, we watched as other girls went up there throughout the night. At one point, Lucy and I decided to be funny and yell back and forth to each other, "look at those sluts! What kind of girl goes up there to dance?!"
But this is all coming from the group of four girls who are touching each other's boobs on purpose. Like it was some sort of dance move.
It wasn't until we left the club and my cousin fell in the street that I thought to myself, "Oh my god, I feel like we are characters on the Jersey Shore." Which, for you folks that live in a cave, is NOT a good thing. It's actually quite a bad thing.
Anyway, moving on. Last night Schroeder and I went to Sally's apartment, drank her beer, made her watch Paranormal Activity 2, then left her there at around 10:30. By herself. Among her pleas for us to stay. I'm not saying we're assholes but...yeah.
-Jenny
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