My presence is required at a lot of events. A lot events. Weddings for people I’ve never met before, parties for kids that haven’t even been born yet, and bachelor parties that will cause me to have heart palpitations when I think about my bank account. But that’s just what your mid-to-late twenties are all about — going to events you don’t want to go to simply to signal that you’re “adulting,” whatever the fuck that means.
Some of these parties, though? They’re a blast. I want to go to them ten times out of ten. But others? They make me debate joining the Witness Protection Program before moving to Patagonia where I’ll cook over a fire for the rest of my life in between fly fishing and evading American banks who are looking to collect on my overdue student loan payments. So, from first to worst, let’s tackle every party you’ll have to confront until your friends are finally grown the fuck up.
8. Bachelor Party
You know what you’re getting when you go into a bachelor party — a lighter wallet, a week-long hangover, and some anxiety over what your friends did or didn’t see while you were browned out in the strip club. But the fact of the matter is that bachelor parties are the best possible event you can get invited to when you’re nearing thirty. Will they make you question your path in life in the days following? Yes, of course. But you can only go to so many of them before the well of your unmarried friends dries up and all you have left is the memories.
Sure, they’re not all ideal. You’re going to have to inconveniently travel over long weekends where you’d rather be at a lake house drinking Labatt Blue Lights by the case, but how much can you really complain about an open bar, a free meal of food, and a wedding band taking you deep into the night with a bunch of Motown classics?
Do you want to buy a new tie because your last one was ruined after you drunkenly ripped it off upon entering your room at the bed and breakfast? No, but that’s just a cost you incur. Do you really want to get your tuxedo dry cleaned for the country club wedding for a couple you’ve met less than a handful of times? Probably not, but just use all that Veuve sipping as a networking opportunity. And do you really feel like going to the rehearsal dinner where you legitimately know no one and have to discuss your career trajectory until it’s finally over? No, but you’re a 28-year-old man and these are the growing pains you have to endure.
6. Stock The Bar Party
I, personally, am not a fan of being invited to parties where I’m told to bring my own booze. If you’re hosting a party, just host the damn party. But Stock The Bar Parties are essentially just one big excuse to have a coed wedding shower where the bride and groom come out of it with a bunch of vodka you’ll just end up drinking at their dinner parties anyway.
The biggest issue, though? Weddings already command my presence in about a million other fucking ways. Not only am I wasting a weekend, a lot of cash, and money for your fucking Vitamix, but now I have to go to yet another event where I’ll just wake up hungover the next day thus further affecting my already struggling golf game.
5. Engagement Party
Congratulations! He finally asked! Oh my God, let me see the ring! Ugh, he did such a good job! I could not be more happy for you two.
*Pulls the groom aside*
So you finally did it, man. How’s it feel? Yeah, that’s kind of what I expected you to say. Are you still in for that golf trip next month now that you have to plan a party for 300 people that you rarely even talk to? Alright, I’ll let everyone else know. I expect you’re doing Vegas in March for the bachelor party? Awesome, that’ll be a hell of a time. Alright, man. Well, it was great seeing you. Go mingle and pretend to smile for a while. See you on the other side.
4. 1st Birthday Party
Just gonna say it — lotta hoopla for a party that the little dude won’t even remember. Between all these little fuckers running around and my mentality of “Am I allowed to get blasted at this thing?”, I’m really torn on what I’m supposed to do with my hands here. Like, I’m not not going to drink with all these screaming kids, but as someone who is probably at least half a decade from having one of my own, I have no idea what’s appropriate to do in their presence. Can I swear, or will they pick up on that? Are you going to ask me to hold your kid at some point, or will you let me wait a few months until his neck is strong enough to support his own head? And seriously, can’t we just say these kids are a “year-and-a-half” instead of 18 fucking months old?
3. Wedding Shower
Great, another event for the wedding I’m already taking out a loan to attend. But the worst (or best?) part? I’m not even required to attend this because I’m a fucking dude. And I think I can echo the sentiment of everyone else when I say that it’s a little ridiculous that we have to buy even more gifts for this than we were already required to buy for the Stock The Bar Party and the wedding itself. Sure, my girlfriend and I don’t have a joint bank account but all that money’s coming from the same well when it comes down to it. But no, seriously, enjoy the numerous pointless gifts you’re getting. I’m sure you’ll use those “His” and “Hers” mugs until the end of time and hang up all those fuckin’ things with your wedding date on them. Just timeless stuff all around.
Oh, and I’ll speak for all of us here — as the men in your lives, we really look forward to picking up the party attendees after they’ve been drinking champagne, white wine, and vodka for the entire afternoon. That never ends poorly.
2. Baby Shower
You know, like a wedding shower, but really just more of a funeral for your friends’ social lives because they’re about to be up at all hours of the night attending to their wallowing infant. And there’s nothing I love spending my money on more than a bunch of gifts that will be outgrown and uninteresting to this little dude come his first birthday party. Of course I won’t mind if he pukes up on this terrycloth shirt I bought from Baby Gap with my hard-earned money. Never mind the fact that a bottle of bourbon for your husband would go to better use than the building blocks I just bought. I mean, if I could, I would’ve just gotten your kid a fucking iPhone for this shower because lord knows you’re just going to shove one in his face when he’s old enough to hold one.
1. Gender Reveal Party
Can’t we just find out once this thing pops out like the old days? Because despite the fact that I’d hate to see you post photos on Facebook of a bunch of blue balloons coming out of a box signaling that “It’s a boy!!!”, the last thing I want to do is take away from my potential tee time opportunities to go to your house to find out whether or not I have to buy blue or pink clothing come your fucking baby shower. It’s not that I don’t care about you as a couple or your child. I do. I really do, I promise. But your kid being male or female really doesn’t carry any weight in my life. Sure, I want our kids to be the Bash Brothers of the prep school we send them to, but that’s so far off in the distance that I’ll be lucky if my kid isn’t going through a metal phase where he shops at Hot Topic. Let’s just keep this information off of my calendar and on Instagram where it belongs.
After all, what is gender anyway, am I right? .
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