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triadruidSo last night was the bachelor's party for our wedding. It was also the bachelorette party for our wedding. Conveniently, our organizers (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
featherynscale and iron_clad) decided to have a combined event, and I'm much in favor of the idea; it seems to have worked out very well.
We started out with a theme, cribbed from Bridget Jones' Diary apparently; Vicars & Tarts! Everyone either was supposed to dress up as clergy (Christian, presumably, since I don't know any pagan vicars), or as tarts and trollops and the like. Amazingly, we ended up almost even:
All of us were assembled and ready eventually, and went out to the limousine...except it wasn't there anymore. What? Oh, he forgot to get us champagne, so took a spin up the road. Alright. We stood in front of the house, terrifying neighborhood children and admiring each other's decor, until he got back, then (most of us) piled in and we caravaned out to W.J. McBride's, whichfeatherynscale had identified as the place to get some good Irish cuisine. It occurred to us about 3/4 of the way through getting seated that perhaps an *Irish* restaurant was not the best place to take a Vicars & Tarts party...but surely it would be alright, right? Or not. saffronhare had beat us there, coming separately from her house, and dressed as she was, was accosted by a nice Catholic couple asking her to bless their newborn baby. Some small confusion ensued, wherein she explained that while she was a UU lay minister and could bless their child, she was not in fact a nun, and was in fact waiting for the rest of her costume party group to arrive. This seemed acceptable, and they did ask her to go ahead with the blessing. We arrived shortly afterward, and they set us up in a side room with plenty of room.
Our waiter got almost immediate bonus points for recognizing the "Blas-for-me, blas-for-you..." song as an Eddie Izzard quote, and gave us impeccable service throughout. We took our own sweet time getting food ordered, mostly on account of intentional and unintentional photo opportunities. Sometime while we were eating, a card arrived at the table, addressed to "Sister" (quotes included). It seems that the young Catholic couple was disturbed by the prospect of our apparently-realistic vicars being mistaken for actual Catholic clergy, and disparaging their remaining good name by our association with such a disreputable lot. The card was very politely worded, and we did what we could to accommodate their concerns, by moving the priests of the group to face *away* from the door, and the prostitutes to the far side, since they were apparently less offensive.
Having suitably fortified ourself on steak, shrimp, lamb, stew, mussels, really-amazing potatoes, and a wealth of other hearty dishes, we bid farewell toteross50 and his woman, who had to leave after dinner, and managed to orchestrate 9 people into an 8-passenger limousine. This involved someone sitting on the floor, and Sister saffronhare obliged, especially if it meant she was within petting distance of a maximum number of people. Unfortunately the severe rainstorms of the prior evening soaking the carpet meant she was soon wet in the not-so-pleasant way, and she ended up crouching for a while before deciding on someone's lap to land upon. (Thank you, Missouri roads, for being so full of potholes that you can make even a stretch limo bounce with a lively nun on your lap). After some consultation with Directory Assistance, we navigated out to no-man's-land, or rather Independence MO, to visit Legs Cabaret, which came highly recommended by our other organizer (and not just him, I might add). We were not disappointed. The place is small but packed, and while the clientele (did I mention it was just down the road from the appropriately named Knobtown Cycle Shop?) left a bit to be desired, the dancers and waitresses were very friendly and professional. We commandeered a corner booth and surrounding tables and enjoyed what we could of the dancers, though dim lighting and an inopportune pillar blocked much of the best view. Legs has the distinction of being one of the few places locally where you can get both topless dancers and alcohol, and the view of staff engaged in more intimate dances all around us was actually better than the floor show, at least part of the time.
Our costumes did cause some alarm when the dancer sitting in front of us turned around and nearly jumped out of her (well, dress might be too generous a term, but out of her skin anyway) when she saw two priests looking at her. She was Catholic, you see...but she got the joke. Not so the petite Asian dancer who came up to us and was trying to make small talk, until we realized she didn't realize the significance of the tab collars and cassocks... but better still was the announcer's reaction tosaffronhare's first experience with tipping a pole dancer. Apparently she forgot to put her yardstick down when she went up to the stage, and got dubbed, in front of everyone, "Sister Pain". It stuck; perhaps a little too well. Before she sat back down, she had offers from men in the place to smack them with the yardstick. Once was funny, twice was mildly amusing, but when they started trying to tip *her*, the joke was over. They thought she worked there, you see... ditto for kittenpants's fantastic French ensemble. There was another bachelor party there, apparently, but nothing quite like us...no less than three staff members congratulated us and wished us well for the wedding when we eventually left.
Before that, though, we had to be introduced to the much-lauded dancer who had made such an impression on those who had been to Legs before. Apparently the daughter of two lesbians, she was dressed in a micro-short French Maid's outfit that night and gave lap dances to no less than three of our party, includingkittenpants and yours truly (although not at the same time). Very nice, real, and terrifyingly flexible, though she clearly prefers women (and not without cause; she says all of her five regulars are women, who probably enjoy her antics with the tongue ring she has graced herself with). Not really being allowed to pay for anything that night (and lacking much in the way of pockets), I didn't have anything to tip her with directly, so I settled for rubbing her feet, albeit through/around her 3" heels. A funny thing about Missouri law; apparently if a dancer takes her shoes off, she can be charged with prostitution. If she leaves them on, though, everything's okay...? I dunno; but I did enjoy seeing those of our party trying to figure out exactly *what* I was rubbing to make the sweet thing shudder so deliciously... ah well.
Eventually someone had the good sense to realize we were nearing the end of our use of the limousine, and since our sensible-shoes contingent was remarkably low, we decided not to opt to walk home. Pleasantly, those of us who were still drinking were able to take advantage of the still-chilled bottle of champagne (strictly speaking, Spumanti) our driver had procured earlier. Not to make him feel left out, we had loaned him the Pope hat of K.U.R.S. fame to join in the reindeer fun. He dropped us off safe and sound at E3HQ around 2:03 am, and we mostly broke for home. All original goals were achieved:
featherynscale and iron_clad) decided to have a combined event, and I'm much in favor of the idea; it seems to have worked out very well.We started out with a theme, cribbed from Bridget Jones' Diary apparently; Vicars & Tarts! Everyone either was supposed to dress up as clergy (Christian, presumably, since I don't know any pagan vicars), or as tarts and trollops and the like. Amazingly, we ended up almost even:
- kittenpants, as a French tart (stunning black lacy corset, black bloomers, fishnet thigh-highs, a choker with an almost-cameo, and a beauty mark);
- featherynscale, as the Crusader tart (short black velvet dress with a silver Maltese cross on the front);
- iron_clad, as an apparent enforcer to...
- niveus_tigris's 90's pimp, both in blue shirts w/tribal designs on them and tight pants. The pimp added leather pants for ...ummm, effect, and a white tiger-striped furry cowboy hat.
- chaosdruid as an 80's tart, sort of a micro-Cindy Lauper with black miniskirt, white stockings, white tank top and sheer overshirt, black fishnet fingerless gloves, and oodles of obnoxious jewelry;
- breathofgold in a sheer/mesh red top (someone insisted she put something under it, damn the luck), black sateen skirt and truly awe-inspiring pumps with riveted patent-leather straps and silver 4" heels;
- teross50 as a midtown minister in an all-black suit with black-shirt and heavy gold chain, accompanied by his trophy wife in a purple satiny outfit;
- saffronhare in a picture-perfect "casual Nun" outfit, complete with wimple, white blouse, discrete crucifix actually blessed by the Pope, a long dark skirt, and sensible shoes;
- druidevo in a Vicar costume he inexplicably found mere hours before the event, at a thrift store impulse trip;
- and
yours truly in a hastily rendered tab-collar dickie (partlet, if you prefer) under KP's black dress, tied with a sash. Pants proved too warm under this, so I settled for thigh-highs.
All of us were assembled and ready eventually, and went out to the limousine...except it wasn't there anymore. What? Oh, he forgot to get us champagne, so took a spin up the road. Alright. We stood in front of the house, terrifying neighborhood children and admiring each other's decor, until he got back, then (most of us) piled in and we caravaned out to W.J. McBride's, which
featherynscale had identified as the place to get some good Irish cuisine. It occurred to us about 3/4 of the way through getting seated that perhaps an *Irish* restaurant was not the best place to take a Vicars & Tarts party...but surely it would be alright, right? Or not. saffronhare had beat us there, coming separately from her house, and dressed as she was, was accosted by a nice Catholic couple asking her to bless their newborn baby. Some small confusion ensued, wherein she explained that while she was a UU lay minister and could bless their child, she was not in fact a nun, and was in fact waiting for the rest of her costume party group to arrive. This seemed acceptable, and they did ask her to go ahead with the blessing. We arrived shortly afterward, and they set us up in a side room with plenty of room.Our waiter got almost immediate bonus points for recognizing the "Blas-for-me, blas-for-you..." song as an Eddie Izzard quote, and gave us impeccable service throughout. We took our own sweet time getting food ordered, mostly on account of intentional and unintentional photo opportunities. Sometime while we were eating, a card arrived at the table, addressed to "Sister" (quotes included). It seems that the young Catholic couple was disturbed by the prospect of our apparently-realistic vicars being mistaken for actual Catholic clergy, and disparaging their remaining good name by our association with such a disreputable lot. The card was very politely worded, and we did what we could to accommodate their concerns, by moving the priests of the group to face *away* from the door, and the prostitutes to the far side, since they were apparently less offensive.
Having suitably fortified ourself on steak, shrimp, lamb, stew, mussels, really-amazing potatoes, and a wealth of other hearty dishes, we bid farewell to
teross50 and his woman, who had to leave after dinner, and managed to orchestrate 9 people into an 8-passenger limousine. This involved someone sitting on the floor, and Sister saffronhare obliged, especially if it meant she was within petting distance of a maximum number of people. Unfortunately the severe rainstorms of the prior evening soaking the carpet meant she was soon wet in the not-so-pleasant way, and she ended up crouching for a while before deciding on someone's lap to land upon. (Thank you, Missouri roads, for being so full of potholes that you can make even a stretch limo bounce with a lively nun on your lap). After some consultation with Directory Assistance, we navigated out to no-man's-land, or rather Independence MO, to visit Legs Cabaret, which came highly recommended by our other organizer (and not just him, I might add). We were not disappointed. The place is small but packed, and while the clientele (did I mention it was just down the road from the appropriately named Knobtown Cycle Shop?) left a bit to be desired, the dancers and waitresses were very friendly and professional. We commandeered a corner booth and surrounding tables and enjoyed what we could of the dancers, though dim lighting and an inopportune pillar blocked much of the best view. Legs has the distinction of being one of the few places locally where you can get both topless dancers and alcohol, and the view of staff engaged in more intimate dances all around us was actually better than the floor show, at least part of the time. Our costumes did cause some alarm when the dancer sitting in front of us turned around and nearly jumped out of her (well, dress might be too generous a term, but out of her skin anyway) when she saw two priests looking at her. She was Catholic, you see...but she got the joke. Not so the petite Asian dancer who came up to us and was trying to make small talk, until we realized she didn't realize the significance of the tab collars and cassocks... but better still was the announcer's reaction to
saffronhare's first experience with tipping a pole dancer. Apparently she forgot to put her yardstick down when she went up to the stage, and got dubbed, in front of everyone, "Sister Pain". It stuck; perhaps a little too well. Before she sat back down, she had offers from men in the place to smack them with the yardstick. Once was funny, twice was mildly amusing, but when they started trying to tip *her*, the joke was over. They thought she worked there, you see... ditto for kittenpants's fantastic French ensemble. There was another bachelor party there, apparently, but nothing quite like us...no less than three staff members congratulated us and wished us well for the wedding when we eventually left. Before that, though, we had to be introduced to the much-lauded dancer who had made such an impression on those who had been to Legs before. Apparently the daughter of two lesbians, she was dressed in a micro-short French Maid's outfit that night and gave lap dances to no less than three of our party, including
kittenpants and yours truly (although not at the same time). Very nice, real, and terrifyingly flexible, though she clearly prefers women (and not without cause; she says all of her five regulars are women, who probably enjoy her antics with the tongue ring she has graced herself with). Not really being allowed to pay for anything that night (and lacking much in the way of pockets), I didn't have anything to tip her with directly, so I settled for rubbing her feet, albeit through/around her 3" heels. A funny thing about Missouri law; apparently if a dancer takes her shoes off, she can be charged with prostitution. If she leaves them on, though, everything's okay...? I dunno; but I did enjoy seeing those of our party trying to figure out exactly *what* I was rubbing to make the sweet thing shudder so deliciously... ah well.Eventually someone had the good sense to realize we were nearing the end of our use of the limousine, and since our sensible-shoes contingent was remarkably low, we decided not to opt to walk home. Pleasantly, those of us who were still drinking were able to take advantage of the still-chilled bottle of champagne (strictly speaking, Spumanti) our driver had procured earlier. Not to make him feel left out, we had loaned him the Pope hat of K.U.R.S. fame to join in the reindeer fun. He dropped us off safe and sound at E3HQ around 2:03 am, and we mostly broke for home. All original goals were achieved:
- No injuries;
- No one threw up or otherwise got bodily fluids in the limo;
- and we all had a metric goatload of fun.
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no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 05:11 am (UTC)i will be there in spirit...
no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 10:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-08-30 05:48 am (UTC)Pictures
Date: 2004-08-30 09:21 am (UTC)Pictures (are coming)
Date: 2004-08-30 08:48 pm (UTC)