Nate Wilkinson

I’ve never been to a bachelor party. Coincidentally, I’ve never contracted herpes. But there’s still hope.
This weekend I will attend my first bachelor party and with luck, I will witness the ping-pong ball trick for the first time.
I could wait until after it’s over and tell you about all the crazy things that will happen during my brother’s last day of freedom, but there’s one rule that I would be forgetting: What happens at the bachelor party stays at the bachelor party.
So instead of revealing the physiological effects of a lap dance, the proper way to address a stripper or the number of orifices that a dollar can fit into, I am left with only one option — bachelor party etiquette.
Rule #1:  Your face can be used as a flotation device
Strippers have the uncanny ability to sit on anything within a 100-yard radius. That includes you. They can balance themselves on a pool cue and defy gravity by hanging horizontally. It’s only a matter of time before they use you as a rocking chair. Don’t fight it. Strippers are more persistent than Jehovah’s Witnesses on your doorstep. They don’t understand the word “no”. Unless, of course, you try to take them home with $6 and 17 of your best friends.
Rule #2:  Feed the children(of strippers)
Women might think any money spent at strip clubs is wasted. They’re wrong. In fact, your contributions are downright charitable. Every time you toss a dollar on a floor covered in chocolate syrup and male saliva, you’re helping our economy and improving the lives of children.
Candi’s take-home earnings will be used for saline implants and meals for her eight illegitimate children. Both are noble causes. So give generously; money is wasted only when it’s kept in your pocket. And as you know, when you’re at a strip club, the only thing that should be wasted is you.
Rule #3: Dollars for hollers
Going to a strip club is a lot like traveling to a foreign country. You need proper identification to enter, money for souvenirs and everywhere you go, one eye is staring at you.
It should be no surprise then that you’ll have to exchange money — just not in the traditional sense. Except for purchases at the bar or in the champagne room, you cannot use any currency with the pictures of Lincoln or Hamilton. And I’m sorry Mr. Jackson, I am for real, but you and Ulysses are also banned. And Franklin? Well, it’s not about the Benjamins. The goal of bachelor parties is to spend more than $700 in $1 increments. This day is for you and Mr. Washington and by the time it’s over, more than his teeth will be wooden.
Rule #4: T.N.A. Confidential
Bachelor parties should be kept more secret than North Korea’s nuclear weapons program. There will be lots of stories, but you can’t tell any of them to your wife, girlfriend or mail order “nanny.” Nope, bachelor party stories are best reserved for those testosterone-filled friends who can truly appreciate them. Females can’t appreciate someone who can tie a cherry stem into a knot while hanging upside down, but your buddy will recognize it as a valuable life skill.
Rule #5: Bet on black
Bachelor parties are very similar to Irish funerals. There is loud music, strong ale and indistinguishable speech. And while the party may be joyous, the reason for it is not. Your friend is not getting married; he is “going to the other side”.
Thus, you should always wear black. Not only is black recognized as the universal color for mourning, but it also helps to hide lipstick marks, visible erections and high heel imprints on your chest.
Rule #6: The holed truth
When talking with strippers, lying is not encouraged, but required. When they tell you that they’re single(lie), interested(lie) and dying to give you a lap dance(lies, damn lies), it is only right that you respond with lies of your own.
For example, this weekend I will be an investment banker from New York who is visiting on business. During the day I work for Wells Fargo and at night I rescue baby birds that have been abandoned by their mothers. And you know what’s the best part? The buxom blonde buffoons will believe it — even as I’m selling my watch to pay for our trip to the fun room.
— Wilkinson is a senior journalism major who wants to hear your best bachelor party story. He’s sure to top it. Send an e-mail to n8wilk@hotmail.com.