"No really, we're good people."

Picture if you will, The Scene: Gypsy Bar at Borgata. Me, happily laying on a black leather chair, legs draped over the one side.

Enter Bald, creepy drunk dude. Some song plays (I forget the name). He walks toward my chair.

And he decides to hump my legs. And feet.

And to think, we almost ended up at Vilari's in Sicklerville.

This was my bachelorette party. And this was indeed a night I will never forget. But we'll get to that.

The day began with me rushing to even make it home in time, because of course I screwed up on the time and was busy working in Atlantic City. I was on the beach, interviewing surfers for a story - one of which happened to be the most famous surfer in the world, a guy named Robert Weaver - known in surfing circles as Wingnut (he starred in the Endless Summers movies, ring a bell?)

Anyway, I got to chatting with Mr. Wingnut, and told him my bachelorette party was that night. He asked where we were going, and I noted that Cuba Libre was definitely on the short list. He joked that he'd see me there, and I laughed, and went back to the office, sunburned and bit by black flies. My boss was kind enough to let me off early, so I could break speed records to get to the mall, pick up a top (the sexy top I had custom made never arrived in time) and get home to make myself sexy and presentable.

Everyone arrived around 5, and we all piled into 2 cars for dinner at Italian Bistro my sister arranged.

It was the first of many suprises.

The whole table was decorated. Confetti, candi, and Strawberry Shortcake napkins. The staff brought me out specially shaped penis bread, which I promptly cut the balls off of. There was a special flambe dessert made table side, and we all got free shots of Grand Mariner. And there was a pile of presents from my sisters - a crown and sash, a ring, and, ahem, "party favors."

We returned to a limo ... and driver Chris waiting for us.

A limo!!! Wow, it's like prom, except I am actually happy and excited!!!

So we quick went in my apartment to put away dinner leftovers and get ready to go. There were more presents!!! A wedding day emergency kit custom made by Liz, and sexy sexy ass lingere from Jess (I think. If that is not correct I will fix this post. Well, whoever got it for me did a good job.)

Driver Chris had me sign some forms, and asked who the least drunk person would likely be.

"That would be me," I said.

He laughed. Guess he thought I was joking. To be honest though, with the wedding a week away, my stomach just wasn't up to the task of getting shitfaced.

Driver Chris warned us about smoking and getting trashing the car.

"Don't worry about us," I said. He laughed again. What, do we look like slutty crazy party girls? Perhaps I shouldn't answer my own question.

"No really," I said. "We're good people."

Now everyone was laughing. Ok, I guess that did sound dumb, but you know what I mean.

Into the limo, where yes, there were more gifts - red lace crotch-less panties from Tone. Nichole got me dirrrrty mags of nekked dudes. More stuff from my sisters. And enough alcohol to fill a bar. Johanna brought sparkling wine. The Kims brought Mikes hard lemonade. Toni brought some special strawberry alcohol, Jen brought rum and vodka and orange juice. Cruz even made custom CDs for the ride up AND back. The list goes on, and it is safe to say I was overwhelmed.

We hit The Quarter at Tropicana, with most of the girls already good and drunk. We hit RiRahs, where we bumped into our fist bachelor party, where my sister literally took over the room as she always does (my tummy still aching too much to really join her in this effort) and everyone took pictures of us. On to Planet Rose, a karaoke bar, where Cruz belted out a country tune, then to Cuba Libre, where there was dancing, silly pictures and drinking.

And, Wingnut?

I felt a tap pn the shoulder, and sure enough, it was him, wanting a dance lesson! So we danced, he twirled me around, and everyone took pictures. That was kinda cool.

Then there was the toe/leg humping.

We arrived at Borgata, and after some annoying confusion trying to get into mixx, we opted to hit the Gypsy Bar. That is where drunk dudewas thrusting all over my leg and foot. I can feel everyone's eyes in the bar staring at this horrifying scene. Thrust thrust pull.

"What is happening?" I mouthed to my girls. They snapped pictures. Thanks.

Bald dude kisses me on the forehead, almost spilling his drink on me. Wow, sexy.

Gee, look at the time. Yeah, time to go home.

We piled into the limo, and Cruz passed over her custom "The Ride Home" CD.

My backseat bitches, Tone and Jess, kept me laughing the whole way home. We took grainy cell phone pictures of each others boobs, and sent them to our fiances at the strip club.

And then we decided to open the dirrrty mags Cole got me. Hey, I never read Playgirl or anything, but was always curious.

The first mag was called "Torso." Yeah, that should have given us a clue.

The second was "Blueboy." You catching on yet?

This my friends, was hard core gay pornography. Oops.

"What did I buy?" Cole asked, stunned. I have never laughed so hard in my life. We all took turns taking it in. You kinda can't help but look when you read about someone's "Latino spunk buddy."

It's funny, when I was sitting in the limo, I kinda realized then just how many people we're there. I mean, I already know how many people were there of course, but just kinda thinking about how lucky I am to have so many people in my life that I consider really close friends. I seriously do have the best crew around.

They gave me an amazing night - crotchless panties, Wingnut, gay pronography, toe humps and all - that I will always remember.