My friend, Princess S, was still very upset about the devastating family news and wanted to do something for her sister to let her know how much she cared. So we all put our Greek thinking caps on and decided that we needed to do SOMETHING. And what is a sorority girl’s calling? If you were going to say planning birthday crawls and wearing matching shirts and tiaras to college dive bars while taking copious amounts of unidentified shooters after pre-gaming with beer pong and vodka shots, you would be correct. But on a more philanthropic note: To throw a fundraiser.
Now I have thrown my share of events for work and participated in many charitable organizations, but never had I thrown together a date auction for over 200 people in six weeks with prizes and gifts and raffle items. And I can say that it went pretty well. We raised almost $5,000 for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society!!
After the event concluded, it was time to get our drink on. It was supposed to be a very fun night because our friend Bif, who now plays for the Miami Dolphins, was in town to emcee the event and we never get to see him now that he is an important NFL player. Even though I still remember him driving his ghetto blue cavalier over to our apartment sophomore year to participate in aforementioned beer pong and shot taking and in order to accompany me to every date event that we had. The fact that I didn’t have a real date and he didn’t care how drunk I got at said events made him the perfect date for 20-year-old Holly.
JUST as we begin to celebrate our victorious date auction, someone runs up to me to tell me that my boyfriend (RG) is being kicked out of the bar. Awesome … just when it was time to hang out with all my long lost sorority sisters (when had spent the week prior talking about who got fat and who was engaged) – there would not even be any time to get any new gossip. It turns out that RG was not even that drunk, he just took a shot and it went down the wrong way and he was choking (classy!). But since I am the excellent girlfriend that I am, I leave with him and we decide we will just head to a bar close and wait for other people to leave and let us know where they were going.
Across the street we saw a dimly lit neon sign with the words “Good Guys” blinking in the distance. We both secretly like dive bars and this looked like the perfect place to sit and have a few relaxed beers while waiting for the rest of the group. I sauntered up to the door acting important in my stilettos and swung it open … only to find another door – this one sketchier than the first. So I hoist it open and what do I see? NIPPLES!
Nipples everywhere! I fell back a little and the bouncer asked me if I was drunk and would be okay if I came in. I graciously informed him that I was not drunk at all (a small lie) and that the reason I faltered on the way in was that I didn’t expect to see so many boobs.
We decided to go in. I mean, it would be a funny story, right? And I have been to plenty of strip clubs in my day (we thought it was cool in high school to use fake IDs and sneak in… and what is a better way to get drinks as an 18-year-old girl but to go to a trashy strip club in West Virginia with a bunch of horny rednecks?). I then decided to text EVERYONE I knew at the bar across the street and tell them that I was waiting for them at the strip club and they should come. Everyone was pretty blacked out at that point – so let’s just say I got no rescue and all that accomplished was telling 20 of my closest friends that I was electively watching naked ladies dance that fine Saturday.
I have to say that this was by far the best strip club experience I have had probably because it was in D.C. and not West VA. I think RG was more uncomfortable with it than I was but he did mention that it made me a pretty cool girlfriend. So at least something positive came out of it?
