Your Guilt-Free Pass on the Bachelorette Party (and Penis Hat)

Dear Dategirl,This isn't exactly a relationship question, but I thought you might be able to help. My friend Abby is getting married in June, and I'm a bridesmaid. The maid of honor just e-mailed all of us BMs to talk about a bachelorette party. My problem is that the party is in an expensive, far-away city and will entail plane tickets, male strippers, ritzy hotel rooms, limos, dinners, spa treatments, champagne, etc., not to mention that we have to pick up the bride's tab too.I want to celebrate with her, but I still have to fly out there for the wedding two weeks later. All her other friends are wealthier than I, so it's not a big sacrifice for them. I could put it on my credit card and suck it up, but with the wedding, lodging for that, the dress and shoes, the shower(s), and her gift, I'm already spending close to $2,000 I don't exactly have. I feel guilty, but there's just no way I can afford all this and the bachelorette party too.But besides the expense, the thought of spending the weekend with a group of women wearing penis hats sounds awful. I wish I'd never said yes to being a bridesmaid. What can I do?—Bridesmaid-zilla

I can't believe you're already spending two grand on your friend's nuptials! It'd be one thing if it were your own wedding, but you're not even leaving there with a husband. Damn, woman. Even if they were loaded, I couldn't—and wouldn't—ask anyone to pay that much money to help me celebrate anything.Thankfully, I've never been a bridesmaid, or a bride for that matter, so maybe I'm out of touch. But no: You don't have to go to this bachelorette party. Send your regrets graciously and without an ounce of guilt. Because even without the penis party-wear, bachelorette parties are just, well, stupid.These dopey bashes exist solely to help brides-to-be feel less crappy about their fiancés' booze- and boob-fueled fiascos. How does dry-humping (or more) a stripper celebrate an impending marriage? Maybe if you're Amish and have never seen another set of nipples, I could fathom it. But most of us aren't walking down the aisle with even a tattered shred of chastity intact.I've heard the argument that bachelor parties are a celebration of the groom's last night of singledom, but are engaged people really single? Maybe technically, but I assume that if I came home with a streak of dried semen smeared across my chin, my live-in boyfriend would have grounds to dump me. Rest assured I'd do the same if I found a hickey on him.Also, these bashes have devolved into giant money pits. Whereas dudes used to be content with a slack-jawed gathering at the local strip bar, now they're spending weekends in Vegas, doing blow off hookers' asses, and losing the mortgage at the craps table. So their brides try to keep up, running off to New York for the Sex and the City bus tour and stuffing their gobs with cupcakes and cosmos.I can't decide which is the lamer way to celebrate an upcoming marriage: beer pong and a furtive handjob, or a piehole full of baked goods and a rousing game of "Pick-Up Dicks?" How about we call it a draw and stop the madness?dategirl@seattleweekly.comWant more? Listen to Judy every Friday from 7–8 a.m. on MOViN 92.5's "The Ladies Room" or visit dategirl.net.

 
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