Posts Tagged ‘beer’

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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.

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Two thousand fifteen.  Such a huge number.  The year we are in, some would say.  And this is a string of four pointless sentences.

I haven’t been to Atlantic City this year, so we are way overdue for a diary.  Usually, around this time, Keith and I would have hit AC on some kind of crazy adventure.  However, he made the horrible mistake of abstaining from alcohol for Lent.  This time, it is OB and myself, Harrah’s, and the Atlantic City Beer (and Music) Festival.  We begin our day of activities with a buffet….

2:30PM – The ride down was fairly uneventful.  We were pleased to find that the buses now go straight from Port Authority to Harrah’s (a game changer!), and I slept the whole way down.  OB, unfortunately, made the error of not printing out his ticket for the beerfest before leaving.  We ventured out to find the hotel business center, but Harrah’s seems to be determined to hide it away from all human contact.  After two separate elevator rides and a meander through both the casino and the barren halls of unused meeting rooms, we found the business center.  It was inhabited by another poor soul who, too, had forgotten to print up his ticket.  However, this jabroni fills us in on his current woes: the printer isn’t working.  A friendly staffmember arrived, but after a series of complicated e-mail transactions, we were still without our tickets.

I decide to take matters into my own hands.  I look at the printer.  It says “No Paper.”  I use all my MacGuyver skills, and remove paper from the fax machine and stick it in the printer.  Problem solved.

Harrah’s, I’m available to be head of your IT department.  Just give me a call.

4:00 – After a quick shower and some squats to get the blood flowing, we headed down to Harrah’s Waterfront Buffet to stuff ourselves with crab legs and rotten shrimp.  We went as the buffet opened, so we were surrounded by the elderly in their natural habitat.  However, our eyes were distracted by the Harrah’s Pool, which was actually hopping.  I don’t seem to remember it actually working as a “pool,” but rather a nightclub.  Yet today, on the first semi-nice day of 2015, the ladies (and gents) were out in their skimpiest outfits.  It was quite a sight.

5:30 – The.  Beerfest.

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Honestly, this might be the most fun, best run event I have ever been to in Atlantic City.  I can’t even begin to properly describe it.  So, without ado, here’s my top six list of the best things about the Atlantic City Beer (and Music) Fest:

6. It’s very well-organized. The space was large and brightly lit.  The event started on time.  It was insanely easy to get through security.  The cabs after the event were easy to find (granted, we left about 20 minutes early to avoid the rush).  Given that there were about 10,000 people there with the express purpose of drinking, it could’ve easily been a shitshow.  Instead, it was the greatest party of the year.

5. There’s food!  Unfortunately, we weren’t able to partake much in this aspect, having eaten before.  But, we passed by a bunch of smoked meats that smelled absolutely mouth-watering.  Free samples, to boot.  Speaking of free…

4. So much swag.  I live for swag.  Stickers, coasters, buttons.  Aside from the beer, you can definitely get your money’s worth in useless crap.  I love it.

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3. There’s so many activities!  Drinking tiny beers for four hours can get a bit boring.  So why not try on kilts?  Or listen to music? Or do some yoga?  You can do all these activities for as long or as short as you want, depending on how much time you need to rest. (I would like to note that this is the second time we were at an event in Atlantic City featuring Everclear.  And it is the second time we chose not to watch Everclear.)

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2. The crowd rocks.  You had groups of drinkers celebrating people’s birthdays, some trying to do the “Wade Boggs Challenge,” and others dressed up as wrestlers.  And, for such a large event, there were almost no bad apples in the bunch.  Nobody was sloppy or vomiting, and nobody was being a jerk (fighting, pushing, cutting lines, etc.).

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But, we all know what number one is…

1. Four hours of beer.  You are given a small glass, and the recommended sample size is 2 ounces, but come on – you got unlimited beer from some great breweries.  For free.  For four hours.

I will make it my duty to be there next year, come hell or high water.  And you should too.  And I am getting no money to endorse this.  This should be the last line of the diary.  Unfortunately, the night keeps going.

10:00 – OB and I take our drunk asses back to Harrah’s, and the rest of the night is a blur.  We have an excellent midnight dinner at McCormick and Schmick’s, and OB passes out early.  I make the unfortunate mistake of staying up gambling.  I get beat at the slots.  I get beat at the blackjack tables.  I get beat when I bet small.  I get beat when I bet big.  I get beat when I play with bad blackjack players.  I get beat when I play with good blackjack players.

Bottom line: I stink at gambling.

7:00AM – After a short nap, I take a morning stroll on the Harrah’s waterfront and take stock of my life.  This may have been the greatest trip I ever had in Atlantic City, but then I had to go gamble.  Which brings up the challenge: can I “Do AC” without gambling?  Is that even possible?

Stay tuned.  The next AC Diary will be coming in June.  And trust me, it’s going to be a doozy.