I've got such a great bachelor party stripper story, but man, you guys. Screw it. I don't want to piss all over the original intent of this thread. I'll save it for one night when I'm drunk and can bang out 800 words.
MotorCityJoe- Since 2007: You talking to me?
this is gonna be a juicy fail... i sense it
I hired my neighbors daughter to ensure she would be on time for my son college graduation party.
MSU Motto"Those Who Stay Will Be Losers"
A friend of mine I'll call Zac Xavier, was finally getting married. I'd known him since kindergarten. His dad was a fireman, mine a cop. We'd gone all the way through high school together. In grade school as altar boys, he stole a bag of hosts and we all at them at lunch time. Got into a lot of trouble and he always was a talker. In sex ed class as 8th graders, he tried to convince us all he screwed his uncle's second wife. None of us, including the male teacher, believed him. Still, he was a funny guy. As we got older, he had the propensity to talk about how small his unit was, and I mean, a lot. Sometimes it got to the point of us saying, "Ok, we get it. We know you're not packing a Louisville. Quit telling everyone." He was the horniest bastard I've ever known and that's saying something. One time he and I were out at a bar with some other buds, probably 1982, and at 3 am we go to a Ram's Horn on Mack, in Detroit, to get some drunk food. Blonde chick inside sees me, starts pointing at me through the window. Low cut top, huge cans, great looking with a low cut dress. She mouths, "I WANT YOU!" With her is a dwarf woman and four guys. Zac and I storm through the door, sit down with them. We order food. Everyone's drunk. She's all over me. Manages a club for swingers, wants me to come by for a "Personal Party." Zac is all over her, though, while the dwarf and the guys are chuckling. Blonde chick shows me the pink-nosed puppies, right there at the table! 44Ds, fake of course. Then she tries to kiss me on the cheek, but I suspect something is amiss. Zac grabs her and BAM! French kiss. Her and the dwarf hit the john. I ask the guys at the table, who are clearly gay, "What's up with blondie?"
They reply, "She used to be a he."
And they all turn to see Zac's reaction.
He eats one of her french fries and says, "Pfft. Lips are lips."
So my friend, Sam is throwing the party. His house had a big barn with a loft in it. There's about 100 guys up there. It's 1988, a cool summer night. I bring a friend of mine, Frank (who is outside this circle of friends) to the party. On the way there, my other buddy, Pete, and I tell him, "By the way, Frank, if Zac tells you he's got a small dick, don't be alarmed. He's kind of weird that way." Frank is like, "Okaaaayyyy..."
The guy throwing the party, Sam, is married to an Italian girl. Her father is right off the boat from Palermo, drives a red Fiero and wears a black Member's Only jacket. Dyed black hair (of course) and looks like an extra from Goodfellas. Sam's brother-in-law is a bit delayed, and as such has little experience with woman. Even though he's in his 30s (we're in our mid-20s at this point), he's very immature acting, like a 15 year old. So of course as the VCR runs a loop of Debbie Does Dallas, Deep Throat and Through the Green Door, this kid is glued to the set (literally...yuck).
Zac's father who I've known since I was 6, comes up to me and the guys, greets us all. We'll call him Mr. X. Mr. X says, "Joey, I gotta talk to you...over here." So he takes me aside and says, "Listen, I don't know how this is gonna play out with Zac's future father-in-law, but fukc it. I've got a couple pros coming from downtown. They're supposed to get here around 11:30. Now I'll be standing at the top of the stairs. When I give you the signal, you plug that in and hold it over your head."
He points to a light bar, the type a mechanic might use. It's six lights across and about 6 feet long.
I say, "OK, but why do I have to do it?"
"Because you're the tallest guy here. I want everyone to see these two."
He walks away and I assess the situation. Zac's father was an amazing man. He movie-star handsome, almost debonair. He'd once been stranded in a snowstorm, hunting deep in Quebec when Zac and I were in 3rd grade. He'd been lost for three days and survived, despite the death of a guide and his hunting partner having a heart attack. He developed a devil-may-care attitude after that. I was
a bit concerned because Zac and I were from Copper Corner, and his future wife was from Birmingham. She came from money. Her father was wearing a pink Ralph Lauren oxford and khakis for fukc's sake! He also had a bit of a sour look already, and here it was only 7:30. Zac's older brother Jim walked up to me. He was absolutely whistled. "Hey, Joe, you hear my dad's got a surprise planned for Zac?"
"Yeah, he gave me instructions."
Another hour and now you can smell hash and the chronic, and I look and see Mr. X pounding Jack Daniels straight from the bottle. I go downstairs and two of my friends are sharing a joint. I didn't smoke since a few bad experiences with it in 8th grade, but Sam's father in law happens upon us. Broken English and all, "You guys a getting a little high, huh? How about letting me have a toke onna that?" They oblige him and he just hammers it. "Wooooh, I see things!" He walks away. We piss ourselves.
It's now 11:15. Between the craps table and the poker games and the bad porn, it's bacchanal to the max. EVERYONE is 'faced at this point. Zac is just whistled. He stumbles over to Frank and I and says, "You guys having fun? Big Joe how many years we known each other? A lot. Frankie, it's Frankie right. I wish there was some trim here right now. Hard to believe I'm going to be committed to just one snatch the rest of my life, especially after all the trim I banged." I look over at Mr. X and he starts pointing at me.
"Frank, go over there. You'll want to see this."
Sam sets a chair down in the middle of the space and sits Zac down. Mr. X makes a toast, ending it with, "Zac, you're under arrest. I bring you two of Detroit's Finest!" Then he pushes the button on a tape player and this really booming jazz starts playing. We all laugh, he sort of shakes his ass, pot belly and all. Zac's future father in law politely smiles. Then Mr. X points at me and I plug in the light. He kills the overheads and the scene is suddenly ethereal. I mean, this light, mixed with the heavy cigar and pot smoke cuts through and everything is softened by it. There's this semi-circle around Zac, and everyone is pretty amped. From the shadow two women emerge. They're both black. We're in East Detroit which at the time was pretty homogenous. The lead girl is dainty but stacked. She's wearing absolutely NOTHING but a cop hat. Girl's carmel-complected, built like a gymnast with a beautiful face and perfect body, save for--and this is bizarre--faint stretch marks, that have taken on a slight keloid effect. But contrasting with her dark skin, they were very nearly white, and looked like she'd been delicately painted as a topograhical map. It was almost like tribal markings.
So everyone is whooping and hollering, when the second one appears.
The only compliment I could give this woman was she had less HAIR on her stomach than Emmanuel Steward. And let me tell you, she looked like the Kronk owner in drag. She wore not only the cop hat but carried a nightstick and handcuffs. This was pre-hard-waxed floors, so there was a hedge that didn't stop until north of her navel.
I looked at my other friend and said, "These are the best he could find?" Jee-zusss, the guy was an arson investigator. Surely he could've found some better talent. But the gymnast was out for bear.
She does a handstand and lands right on top of Zac. And he's 8 shots of Cuevo in so he slaps her ass and motorboats her.
Meanwhile, Mr. X has Emmanuel Steward bent over a chair, and his Lee jeans are on the floor. He's mock-back dooring her and she's laughing as she bangs the seat of the chair with the nightstick.
Pink oxford is turning the color of his shirt. Lips pursed, arms crossed. Yikes.
Now the gymnast is really going to work. She does a handstand in front of Zac, her rear end to him and in one motion, kicks the front of the chair he's sitting on, tipping him backwards! You couldn't have drawn it up any better. He sort of stumbles back and lands on his back. Gymnast does a back walk-over and plants her pubis right on Zac's face. She is just grinding away, gyrating on his mouth. I'm holding the freaking light, which is getting heavier than fukc at this point and look to see Sam's brother-in-law, hands on each cheek ala MacCauley Caulkin in Home Alone, staring at the parted meat curtains Zac's trying to escape from.
Mr. X is howling, pointing at his son's plight, at me, at Pink Oxford, just losing his mind.
Zac looks up at me, spreads the girls cheeks apart and screams, "Joey, help me! Get me outta this!"
What can I do? I'm the keeper of the light.
Gymnast takes the cue. She gives Zac a big kiss and makes her way around to some of the guys. Her body is phenomenal. I mean, even with the weird light markings, she's prowling around, the light accentuating her body. It was a boner-maker.
As fate, luck, kismet, whatever would have it, she settles in front of Zac's brother, Jim and kneels before him. Jim's got a beer in each hand, his hat askew. The Gymnast unzips his fly and I swear, pulls out the smallest dick you could wish on your worst enemy. Immediately I look at my buddy Frank and he just shrugs, a knowing look, laughing silently. She takes it in like a mini Tootsie roll. Jim is laughing (or crying, I'm still not sure). Nearly every guy there I'm sure is thinking, "Oh great, now she's positive every white guy is hung like a lightswitch."
Sam's brother-in-law is catatonic, his father-in-law is yelling, "Brown sugar, yeah!"
Mr. X is still slapping E. Steward's ass and Pink Oxford has smoke coming from his ears.
Finally after much dealing and conjecture, and Emmanuel freeing Mr. X from the handcuffs she'd put on him, arrangements are made to pay the women and I remember seeing a line of guys follow them down the stairs. No, I did not partake.
Zac tried to smooth things over with Pinky, but he cut him off and said, "This is an outrage! Maybe you're not the right man for my daughter!" He stomped out and Zac followed him (I never asked if they had to cut through the line of customers). Mr. X came over and kissed my cheek and said, "Was that something or what? Fukc him if he can't take a joke." I guess Pinky and Zac agreed that what happened at the bachelor party was between them, and that his daughter should never hear of it, that neither of them should speak of it ever again. Not sure if that was the case, but they're still married.
We were wrecked the next morning, my buddy Pete, who I went to the party with, and Frank. We crashed at Sam's house. We were sleeping in the basement. It had to be around 10 am when the sun cracked through the blinds and I remember not wanting to open my eyes. I heard Frank groan then burp. Finally Pete says, "Gottt dammm those Xavier's got some small dicks."
And we all just lost it.
MotorCityJoe- Since 2007: You talking to me?