It’s here. After three years, and 21 posts of varying quality, I am having my bachelor party in Atlantic City. Sure, there are places I could have thrown my bachelor party that would be cheaper, easier to get to, and more fun. But it’s me. Not having my bachelor party in Atlantic City would be exactly like cheating on my future wife, only worse. I could not risk any bad karma prior to the wedding.
Along with me were 13 of the crassest, dirtiest scoundrels the east coast ever produced. Sure, almost all of them are 30-years-olds in committed relationships, but that didn’t prevent them from drinking in slightly-above-moderation and spending a slightly-above-responsible amount of money. All the AC Diary All-Stars were there: Keith, OB, Finn, and the little-seen Steve (from way back in Chapter 9). There were many more, but I’ll introduce them as necessary along the way. Let’s get this show on the road!
Saturday
2:00PM – My groomsmen (OB, Steve, and two new characters to the diary: Sharma and my brother) and I had spent the previous night drinking in beautiful Cape May, NJ. If you’ve never been to Cape May, you better get your butt in gear! Cape May is a quiet beach town, where old people will smile at you, every business has “Cape May” in it’s name (i.e. Cape May Brewery, Cape May Peanut Butter, Cape May Gynecology), and the bars actually play Semisonic’s “Closing Time” at closing time. It’s basically bizarro Atlantic City.
Therefore, when we arrived in Atlantic City, we experienced quite the culture shock. As loyal readers know, the bus from New York City is my preferred method to get down to Atlantic City, and it definitely prepares you for the world you are arriving in. Going from Cape May to Atlantic City was like walking out of Disneyworld and into a slaughterhouse. Everyone looked like they wanted to kill us.
Our hotel this time was Caesars. For those planning a bachelor party, I would highly recommend Caesars as a base of operations, mainly due to its central location. When checking in, OB realized he left his wallet in the car, and had to run back. This left four of us abandoned in the lobby area, awkwardly waiting and slowly adjusting ourselves to Atlantic City’s angry nature. Then we met Caesars security. Yes, the following below was an actual conversation.
Security guard: You guys checking in?
Us: Yeah, we’re waiting for a friend.
Security guard: Did you guys just arrive?
Us: ….yes.
Security guard: Were you here last night?
Us: ….no….
Security guard: So you just got here, and weren’t here last night?
Us: …yup. That’s correct.
Security guard (eyeing us suspiciously): ….alright.
You gotta love that AC hospitality! So charming!
Keith Stone: Rory would’ve loved the bus ride down. The door to the bathroom was open the entire time and it smelled like Nets all-time great Gheorghe Muresan had just evacuated his bowels after an all-you-can-eat Indian food buffet. I survived by drinking vodka out of a soda bottle for my 83rd consecutive bus ride down to AC. As we were disembarking, two cute girls were confused about the casino vouchers that come with the bus ticket. Being the gallant gentleman that I am, I tried explaining it to them, but it turned out that the problem was that they were only 18. I took that as my cue to leave and meet up with the guys.
Rainman Suite 