“YOU WAIT OUT here. The rest of you come in.” Jayne pushes me out of the way and invites Ashley, Robin, and Mrs. Daniels inside her apartment. The door slams shut and I’m left alone in the hallway.
Bile rises in my throat. This is a bad idea. I should’ve insisted on no bachelorette party.
Alcohol, family, whatever Jayne has planned—I’m not sure it’s gonna be a good mix. I feel like I need a plan. What if I don’t drink? Can I pull that off? I can pretend. Sip slowly. Spit out a shot when no one’s looking. Ask the bartender to make my drinks nonalcoholic on the sly.
Five minutes that seem like forever go by. What are they doing in there? I blow out a sigh and pace the hall. I send a text to Matthew, asking about the mirror, but I don’t receive a reply. He’s the worst at responding. Knowing him, he probably left his phone at home.
“Okay, count to five slowly and come in.” Jayne opens the door, speaks fast, then shuts it.
Crap. Here we go. I shove my phone in my bag and count five… four… three… two… one….
“Surprise!”
My head spins and I don’t know where to look first. With my mouth hanging open, my gaze finally lands on a large banner that reads: 1 Penis 4 Eva! The four women in the room are wearing glasses. Black-rimmed glasses with large penis noses built in. Jayne rushes over to me and clips a veil to my head. I reach up and pull it forward to see a pink plastic penis sewn into the white tulle.
“You said no penises.” I cover my mouth with my hand and whisper angrily at Jayne.
“Yes, and look at the banner, it says one penis forever. One.” She leans in so only I can hear her. “Grace thinks they’re hysterical, but Ashley was her usual bitch self about them.”
“Grace?” I whisper back. I don’t even call her that.
“Yeah, that’s what she told me to call her.” Jayne laughs, pulling me by the hand over to the couch. “Who’s ready for shots?” she bellows, and I nearly drop dead when Mrs. Daniels raises her hand.
“I don’t ever drink, but tonight, watch out,” Robin says, pulling out a bottle of Fireball from her bag. “I’ve never tried this, but I know you and Matthew love it.”
“What is Fireball?” Mrs. Daniels plays with the penis glasses, adjusting them as if they can help her see better. I want to laugh, but I don’t.
“It’s cinnamon whisky.” Ashley picks up one of the perverted shot glasses Jayne got on a trip to Jamaica and reads out loud, “Ass, the other vagina.” She smirks. “Aw, that’s sweet.”
“Splitting logs.” Jayne hollers a very private thing I shared with her as she pours. “Remember that, Holly?”
“No,” I choke out, and shake my head, pretending I have no clue what she’s talking about.
Mrs. Daniels’s glass gets filled. I watch in horror as she lifts it and reads. I don’t even want to know what that one says. How am I ever going to survive this night?
New plan. Drink. Drink until I can’t think straight.
All the shots are poured to the very top. Jayne lifts her shot glass, motioning for us to do the same.
“To my best friend, Holly, who is marrying a fantastic guy she is madly in love with.” Her smile stretches under her long penis nose. “I love you dearly, and I am so excited to be your maid of honor.” She raises her glass high and winks at me. “Cheers to one penis for the rest of your life, girl!”
“Cheers.” The large penises attached to the eyeglasses makes it hard for them to drink, and thankfully get removed. Everyone lifts their shot glass and downs the booze, including me.
Robin chokes on the fiery liquid and coughs for about a full minute. “That burns like hell. How do you guys drink that?”
“Just wait, in a few seconds you’re gonna feel why.” Jayne picks up the bottle and removes the cap.
“Oh, I think I already can.” Mrs. Daniels puts a hand up to her chest. “That’s nice. Warm.”
“We’re just gonna pregame here for a little and then… hehehe.” Jayne gives a mischievous cackle, refilling all the glasses.
“Then what?” I ask nervously.
“Then you’ll see.” Jayne checks her phone. “Shit, they just pulled up. Quick, one penis forever!” she shouts, and throws back the next shot. Ashley and Robin follow suit.
“Okay, I see what you mean. The second one is not as bad.” Robin licks her lips and brings the cup back up to her open mouth, shaking it for any remaining drops.
“I am going to wait before I have another one,” Mrs. Daniels says politely, and Ashley wastes no time picking up her shot and doing it.
“Me too, I’ll wait.” I offer my shot to Ashley.
“Nope. The bride has to drink.” Ashley pushes my hand, urging the glass toward my lips. “Wait, actually, I have something for you.” She rifles through her bag and pulls out a blinged shot glass with the word Bride across it. “Use this one. I ordered it from Etsy.”
“Ashley, I’m the one in charge of this party, not you. I have a special shot glass for Holly that I was waiting to give her. Put that away, she can use that at the shower if you want.” Jayne storms over and snatches the glass, shoving it back into Ashley’s purse. Only one of them is coming out alive tonight. Jayne reaches into her own bag and pulls out a string of beads with a shot glass attached. “Here, you need to wear this.” She puts it around my neck. I lift the glass and look at the design. It’s a penis with the words “I swallow” above it.
“Jayne,” I grumble, closing my eyes in embarrassment.
“You swallow alcohol.” She laughs. “Now come on, do the shot, they’re waiting.”
“Who’s waiting?” I down the shot as I’m ushered toward the door. No one answers, and we all crowd in the elevator. “Where are we going?” Everyone still ignores me and exchanges knowing glances. I wait patiently, but only because the two shots I took start buzzing their way into my system. The elevator doors part, and a man in black pants and a white button-down greets us.
“Right this way, ladies.” He leads us out the doors of the building to a black stretch limousine parked in front.
“What?” I exclaim. “A limo? Really?”
“Yup. We are riding in style. Nothing but the best for my bestie.” Jayne side hugs me tight with one arm. “I love you, lady.”
“I love you, too. I can’t believe you planned this.” I pull Jayne in for a real hug and catch Ashley rolling her eyes. I really need to keep these two apart tonight… and after tonight.
The driver opens the door and we all pile in. I’m not even situated in my seat before my shot glass necklace is being filled, along with everyone else’s.
“One penis forever.” This time it’s Robin who makes the toast. I’m not sure, but she might already be a little drunk. She’s tiny, petite, and she did say she never drinks, so I guess it’s possible.
I want to ask again where it is we are going, but loud music fills the back of the limo, and a beer is handed to me. Within seconds all of us, including Mrs. Daniels, are using the beer bottles as microphones to sing along to Rihanna.
“I know this song. I have granddaughters.” She smiles at me before taking a sip of her beer.
I smile back, but it feels weird having her here. Ashley and Robin, as usual, are relaxed and comfortable around her. Why can’t I be like that?
“Did you book Maui yet?” Ashley asks over the music.
“No. We’re not gonna do Maui.” I shake my head.
Jayne turns the music down. “What? You’re not? Are you guys doing Kauai instead?”
“No, we’re gonna hold off for a while on a honeymoon.” All eyes are on me. “Ya know, between the new house and the wedding, we decided to hold off. And it’s fine, we don’t need a fancy honeymoon.”
“No, you do need one.”
“Of course you need one.” Jayne and Ashley talk at the same time.
“Really, we don’t. Matthew and I discussed it. We’ll take one… eventually.”
“Maybe you don’t need to go to Hawaii, but you should go somewhere,” Robin chimes in, wide-eyed and talking fast. “After you’re married and especially after you buy a house, it gets harder and harder to get away.”
“Splurge,” Jayne adds. “You’ve already made so many sacrifices on the wedding, don’t do it for the honeymoon, too.”
“I can’t believe it, but I actually agree with Jayne,” Ashley says with a surprised look on her face. “A honeymoon is very important. You can’t not have one.”
The three women keep talking at me, trying to convince me to reconsider and plan a lavish honeymoon. I tune them out, fixating on the fact that one person is staying unusually quiet. Mrs. Daniels keeps her mouth shut; she even turns her head away, staring out the window. She doesn’t like me. At least not in the way she does Ashley and Robin; they’re like daughters to her. But me, she’ll never look at me like that. And who can blame her? I broke her mirror tonight having sex with her son. Okay, so she doesn’t know about that… yet, but she does know way more than she should about the one-night stand situation Matthew and I had when we first met, and she did witness the handcuffed-bed-separating incident. I imagine those are things that are hard to get over.
“We’re here.” Jayne opens up the bottle of Fireball to pour one more round. I press my face against the glass and peer out. South of the Border is in big neon lights with a neon muscle man whose tiny speedo blinks on and off.
You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re at a strip club. With Mrs. Daniels. I toss back my head and swallow the alcohol in my dirty little cup.
Fireball, don’t fail me now.
OUR TABLE IS off to the side and roped off. We’re VIPs. The five of us slide into the cushioned U-shaped booth and a drink order is immediately taken. A round of shots, three Cosmos, and two beers. Jayne and I are the beer drinkers, the rest are living dangerously, adding vodka into the Fireball mix.
“My cousin told me about this place, she said it’s outrageous. The show doesn’t start until ten, but they have a DJ and dancing soon.” Jayne points at the empty dance floor where a DJ is setting up behind a glass booth. “Let’s get ready to work it.” She wiggles her hips, which are poured into a skintight red dress. “Maybe if I shake it hard enough I can snag one of the sexy male dancers.”
The shots arrive, and she transfers mine into the sticky glass dangling in front of me. This is awful, but when she turns away, I spill some of the drink onto the floor. If I keep at this pace, I’m scared of what might happen. Normally I wouldn’t be so cautious, but under these circumstances, I need to watch out.
Once again Mrs. Daniels refuses the shot, and once again Ashley takes it. Robin does hers and tugs on Ashley’s arm. “We have to go dance. No. We have to eat fries.” She laughs at her own words. It’s official. She’s drunk. I watch as Mrs. Daniels grins over at her daughter-in-law with no judgement. I envy how comfortable they are in front of her, I’m afraid it will never be like that for me. She’s known both of them since they were very young. Robin grew up across the street from them, and Ashley and Patrick were high school sweethearts. Me, I’m just some random newb.
As soon as the waiter returns, appetizers and fries are ordered. But before they arrive, the DJ welcomes the crowd and spins the first song.
“To the dance floor,” Jayne instructs. Ashley grabs her Cosmo, Robin thankfully leaves hers untouched on the table next to my beer, and we take off behind Jayne. Mrs. Daniels stays put. I wave her over, but she smiles and shakes her head.
Hands up over our heads, we shake our asses from side to side. The dance floor fills up fast, spinning lights illuminating the rowdy crowd. My penis veil, still in place, swings along with me, the little plastic peen poking a few nearby dancers. I make quick friends with another bride-to-be decked out in a similar veil and a beaded peen necklace around her neck. Through a shouted conversation we find out we’re getting married on the same day, and pose for a bride selfie. She leans in and asks me where we’re honeymooning. I lie and tell her Hawaii. It just seems easier.
“Time for a shot.” Jayne links her arm through mine and drags me toward the bar.
Ashley grabs a stack of cocktail napkins and uses one to mop at the sweat on her forehead. She places her empty Cosmo glass down and waves the bartender over.
“Three shots of Fireball and a Cosmo.” She points at me and Jayne. “Do you guys need another beer?”
“Thanks.” Jayne nods.
“No, I’m good with just a shot.”
The bartender sets us up and Ashley pays. “One penis forever,” she toasts, raising her shot glass first.
The Fireball goes down smooth. Pacing myself suddenly seems like a stupid idea. It’s amazing how after a few shots whisky loses its burn. What was this anyway, number five? Six? That’s usually about the number that starts to make all the stress disappear. And my stress… she es no longer there, muchacha.
“Oh no, we forgot to use your cute little cup.” Ashley pokes my dangling shot glass into my boobs. “That means we gotta do another one.”
Whether it’s five or six, it seems we’ve all reached the magic number. The one where you stop wondering if you should slow down. The one where you start to lose count. The one that crosses you over to the land of drunk.
Ashley bangs her hand on the counter rather rudely to get the bartender’s attention, but it’s hysterical. Fucking. Hysterical. Jayne joins in and we all laugh. Too bad the bartender can’t see the humor in it as he pours us three more shots with a clenched jaw. Rude or not, Ashley does make it up to him by throwing down a twenty-dollar tip.
“One penis forever,” Jayne says quickly, and we all drink.
“Where’s Robin?” I ask.
“Eating fries. The food came.” Ashley guzzles down her Cosmo almost as fast as she did the shot. “Should we go eat or should we dance?”
“Eat, I’m starving,” I say, ready to make a beeline back to the table and start snarfing down the mozzarella sticks we ordered.
“No, I want to dance.” Jayne grabs my forearm and whines.
“Just one mozzarella stick. I’ll eat it quick and be right back.” I pull my arm from her grip and hurry over to the table.
I climb the few steps to our VIP section and slide into the booth next to Robin. “What up, bitch?” she says with a mouth full of food. The fries have done nothing to sober her up. Her uncharacteristic greeting is so freaking funny, I think I’m gonna wet my pants. I hold my stomach, laughing, and realize I really do have to pee.
“Where’s Mrs. Daniels?” I yell to Robin over the music.
“Grace went to the ladies’ room.” Robin picks up another fry but before it makes it to her mouth she stops and uses it to point. “Oh my God, look!”
I follow the fry and see two blondes twerking it up on the dance floor. Jayne’s small frame backs up into Ashley’s much larger frame, and the two gyrate and shake like two old friends who have known each other their entire lives. This time when I laugh, a little pee comes out.
“Where is my phone? I need a picture of this.” I grab it from my purse and make my way over to the blonde spectacle in the center of the dance floor, pushing and elbowing my way through the large crowd. After three pics, they realize I’m taking pics and start posing. Jayne kissy faces Ashley, who covers her mouth with a flirtatious hand. They duck face. They stick out their tongues. They turn around and shake their asses at me. I switch to the Boomerang app for that one and capture it in all its full-motion glory.
“Okay, now put the phone away and come dance,” Jayne shouts, competing with all the noise.
“No, we need more shots,” Ashley yells. “The show is gonna start soon. We need to go to the bar before they make us all go to our seats.”
I still have to pee, but follow them over to the bar, where Robin joins us. Jayne buys a round, then Robin does. I offer but get refused. Ashley buys one last round of shots and insists we all order a Cosmo to take back to our seats for the show. I hand Jayne my Cosmo and tell her to meet me at the table and swerve my way over to the ladies’ room. The line is out the door. I must be number thirty in the long line. My full bladder will never make it. I cross my legs and jiggle.
“Holly.” I hear my name and look around. “Holly, up here.” I tip my head up and see Mrs. Daniels waving to me. She’s number two in the line. “Come up, you can take my spot,” she offers.
I am way too drunk and have to pee way too bad to refuse her generosity. I ignore all the groans from the women I pass and slip into the line in front of Mrs. Daniels. “Thank you.”
“This is your special night, I don’t want you to miss the show. You take my spot and I’ll go wait at the end so I don’t cause a riot.” She leaves for the end of the line before I can even thank her again. The next stall opens and I slip in. By the time I wash my hands, the line has doubled. I feel horrible as I pass my future mother-in-law near the end of the very long line.
“Thank you,” I stop and say, trying hard not to slur.
“No worries, go enjoy. I’ll be there soon.”
I get back to the table just as the lights go down. Spotlights circle the stage, and a man in tight black pants, cuffs, and a bow tie comes out. He welcomes us, states we’re the most beautiful audience he’s ever seen, then in one swoop tears his pants off, revealing a silver thong, and starts humping a chair.
Everyone goes wild. I go wild. I have to. I feel like it’s my bridal duty to go wild. I’m actually trembling. Hands in the air, I shout at the top of my lungs at the thonged humper.
Jayne screams and picks up a cloth napkin to twirl over her head. Ashley whistles using her pinkies, and Robin shouts, “Yaaaaay!” The guy is tan and beefy, having air sex with a chair; not my type at all, but I am compelled to join Robin for a boisterous round of yaying. The urge is uncontrollable.
Three men come out. Dance, hump, strip down to thongs. Then two more join in. Dance, hump, strip.
We sip our Cosmos, screaming and cheering as each man does his thing out on stage, performing his raunchy routine. My voice is ragged from the continuous shouting, and at one point I even take part in the wild napkin swinging.
“How you ladies doing so far?” The silver-thonged emcee from the beginning comes back out. He waits for the roar of the frenzied women to die down. “Here at South of the Border we always like to end the night on a high note.” The cheers start back up; most of the women seem aware of what’s coming next. Eagerly, I wait at the edge of my seat to find out what that next thing is. “I hear we have a couple brides out here tonight.” He uses his hand as a visor and scans the crowd.
“Me. Me.” I stand up and scream, trying to make my voice heard over the crowd. Jayne tugs on my veil, trying to get the emcee to notice us. Too much Fireball has me in a crazed need to be part of whatever raucous routine is about to occur.
“Can I have Holly Martin and Charlene Huckabee report to the dance floor?”
“Ahhhhh! They called my name,” I scream and excitedly jump up in the booth. I’m wedged in the middle and my excitement is too much to contain. I remove my heels, climb up on the table, and scooch my way over to the floor, then break into a drunken run with my arms flailing as if I’ve just been picked as the next contestant on the Price Is Right. When I arrive at the two chairs in the center stage, I jump up and down in a victory dance, even though I have no idea what it is I won.
Off to the side I see Charlene, the other bride-to be, who I took a photo with before being urged up to the take the other seat next to me. She refuses, and after a minute or two her friends give up and let her back to the safety of their table. Huh. Does she know something I don’t know?
“Well, it looks like it’s just you, pretty lady.” The emcee leans over and whispers, “Which one are you, Holly or Charlene?”
“I’m Holly.”
“Everybody say hello to Holllllllyyyyy!” the emcee calls out to the crowd. “She may be getting married soon, but she ain’t married yet.”
I gulp. This can’t be good.
I hear Jayne’s voice cheering my name over the crowd. I look over at our table. Mrs. Daniels is finally back and taking her seat. Seeing her face is a little sobering, and it makes me start second-guessing what the hell I’ve gotten myself into. Is this man going to tear away his pants again? Am I about to be air humped? A siren blares through the room and red lights flash. I don’t know why, but suddenly I get a bad feeling.
“It seems we have an emergency with our bride, Holly. Her loins are on fire. Quick! Somebody call nine… Juan… Juan!” The emcee jogs backwards off the dance floor, and in his place appears a big hulking man stepping through a plume of smoke. He’s decked from head to toe in a fireman’s uniform. The red lights spin and shine over my face, forcing me to keep blinking, making it hard to see. Uh-oh. He approaches my chair and without touching, straddles me, trapping me in place. His hips move in a touchless hump. I know it’s harmless fun, but I can’t relax knowing the mother of my fiancé is watching. He flips around and off come the pants. A barely covered ass clenches bright red spandex into a wedgie in front of me. His jacket drops to the floor, and his hands go over his head as he does a slow pulsing rotation in my direction. I cover my face to protect it from the gyrating bulge at eye level. He’s too close. Yuck. This is how people get pink eye.
“Look up at me, mama,” he says over the crowd so I can hear him. I don’t. I can’t. He hoists one leg up on the arm of the chair I’m seated in, and his pelvis causes a slight breeze going to work double time, humpity hump humping me.
Please make this end. I’m dizzy as my heated Fireball high starts cooling down. This was fun at the table, but it’s not fun here. A quick fear of pictures and videos that will haunt me forever waves through me. I take my hands away and search for Jayne in the crowd. I spot her easily. She’s moved up closer, but instead of hooting and hollering or holding up her phone to capture this mortifying moment, she is stone-faced, zeroing in on the man having imaginary sex with my head. I look up at the face shadowed by the big fire helmet on top of his head.
“Get ready for the big finish,” he says, and his hand disappears down the front of his silky red undies.
Oh shit. Fuck. Is he gonna pull it out?
“Please don’t,” I shout, but it’s too late. A fist emerges from his man panties and he shoots a load of confetti all over my body. I exhale a sigh of relief. Just confetti. Thank God. But it’s not over yet. He drops to his knees in front of me and raises his hat. My mouth drops open in horror as I’m met with a familiar pair of blue eyes.
Holy Mother of God.
“Juan.” I say his name in disbelief. It’s Juan. As in—Jayne’s Juan.
His face drops, showing the same shock I’m feeling. He stammers to say something, picking his tear-away pants up off the floor and holding them over his red silky confetti-holding junk. I’m at a loss. Unsure what to do.
Juan gives me a weak wave before bolting off the floor. Slowly and carefully, I get up and stumble my way back over to a stunned Jayne. Her mouth hangs wide open. She’s speechless. “Are you okay?” I’ve never seen Jayne at a loss for words before. “Say something. Talk to me.”
“Juan. He. That’s. He.” She’s in shock. I wave my hand over her face to give her some air. I have no clue what to say. I search for the right words, something… anything.
“At least now you know he’s not dealing drugs.”