As I sit here on my flight home from Key West reflecting on this weekend’s bachelorette party debauchery, it occurs to me I probably should not have collected so much photographic proof of our activities. Sure, we had a great time, but I’m not entirely sure the whole world needs to know I got a front ways piggyback ride by the hottest gay man I’ve ever seen (I didn’t hate his hands on my ass), that someone wore a crown of peni (that’s plural for penis right?) or that one of my cousins may or may not have stolen a pedi cab. Oh well, I guess my aunt was right … we should have forewarned the island the Pruden girls were coming down. In Lynn’s words, “you guys are at least a category 3,” and that’s a bigger bitch than Irene folks.
So, without further ado, here’s what I learned in Key West:
1. Ridding the island of chickens and six-toed cats didn’t take. Thank you Ernest Hemingway for introducing cats of the six-toed variety to Key West. Even all these years later, you can still find the ancestors of the original mutant cat on the island. Apparently, the powers that be tried to rid the island of these little critters but it clearly didn’t take. My only advice … don’t pick them up because they’re definitely feral. It is perfectly acceptable, however, to chase the free range chickens.
2. Speaking of perfectly acceptable. Who knew bandannas make perfectly acceptable men’s underwear? The male go go dancers at Bourbon St. night club, that’s who. After numerous discussions with my bachelorette party compatriots, we still can’t figure out how these tiny pieces of fabric stay on, but I guess it doesn’t really matter when you shake your ding a ling for a quick buck in the hap-hap-happiest place (for the gay set) south of Disney World.
3. Never hang a giant penis from a fan. That’s right people, getting repeatedly tea bagged by a giant, inflatable pink penis will give you a headache like a herd of buffalo tap danced on your skull. Of course, that could also have been due, in large part, to the ridiculous quantities of alcohol consumed in just under four days. Still, I’m blaming it on the dick because that’s what we ladies do. Take a valuable lesson from me (this could be the most important lesson ever on this blog) and don’t hang inflatable peni from ceiling fans unless you want a migraine accompanied by an unattractive black eye.
4. There are a lot of (possibly) starving artists in Key West. For such a small geographic area, there seem to be a lot of street vendors on this tiny island. It doesn’t seem possible that there could be enough tourists to keep them all in the black, but who am I to judge? They are living in paradise after all. Two artists in particular stood out: (1) Jewelry designer Tommy Rocks who makes some really cool swag, including an uber adorable skull bracelet I bought even though my friend Ian says “Skulls are sooo last year,” and (2) Nameless jerk who was painting ocean scenes with his back to the … wait for it … ocean! Seriously, what the hell dude?
5. Drag queens are more than pretty faces. I’ve been to no place where this is more true than at 801 on Duval in Key West. These bitches be funny, people. I’m just glad I wasn’t sitting in the front row to have my head shoved up the hostess’ very short, very sequined skirt straight into her mangina. We left that to the sweet looking little old lady who was attending with her conservative looking sweet old husband for their anniversary. Lesson learned here … looks can be very deceiving.
6. Dueling pianos can actually be fun. I know what you’re thinking: Now, come on Meredith, you know dueling pianos are reserved for the Baby Boomer set. Touché my friends! These guys were absolutely hilarious and even played HeYa by Outkast! I guess the sign that read, “Chug it!” at the entrance to the bar should have been a hint. Needless to say, we staggered home and may, or may not, have stolen a pedi cab on the way.
7. Serbians love them some pedi cabs. While we’re on the subject of pedi cabs and (possible) grand larceny, you should know that if you should choose to “borrow” a rickshaw while in Key West, you’ll be “borrowing” it from one of a hundred hot Serbian guys who drive them. I don’t know how so many hot Serbians all ended up in Key West, but I do wonder if we should be worried about some Eastern European mafia types coming for their wheels.
8. Olivia by Duval is adorable. Trust me when I tell you the web site pictures do not do this Old Town boutique style hotel justice. It is totally quaint, the management is totally personable and the other guests, while they may not be new lifelong friends, were an absolute blast out by the pool … even if some of them were sun bathing sans swim suit. If you’re looking for a place to stay that’s close to the Duval nightlife and surprisingly affordable for a beach town, this place is the ish.
9. Three nights in Key West is quite sufficient thank you very much. Okay, maybe this isn’t true if you’re lounging on a sailboat while skimming over the waters of the Gulf, but it is definitely true if you happen to be in town for a bachelorette party in Old Town. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great time with my cousins Mel (AKA the bachelorette) and Robyn and all their friends but, let me tell you, my liver wasn’t down with the party. By the third day, I could hear it screaming, “Viva la revolution!” And that, my friends, ain’t a good thing.
10. F*ck you TSA. I know I’m beginning to sound like a broken record here, but I swear I think there must be a personality test for TSA agents to ensure they’re the biggest douche bags in the mainland United States before they can get hired on. Note to self: Do not wear a maxi dress to the Key West International airport unless you want to get groped by a very angry lesbian before your flight, and she didn’t even buy me dinner first.
So, that’s it. Feel free to check out more pictures from my trip at my Facebook page.