The Boston Diaries

The ongoing saga of a programmer who doesn't live in Boston, nor does he even like Boston, but yet named his weblog/journal “The Boston Diaries.”

Go figure.

Friday, January 15, 2010

“Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways—Chardonnay in one hand—Chocolate in the other—body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, ‘WOO HOO, What a Ride!’”

My friend Kurt is finally tying the knot tomorrow and of course that can't pass without a bachelor party!

His brother Erik planned a full day of activities and those of us that can take off work, have done so. The first stop on today's debauchery was the Bass Pro Shop for a little archery.

[Behold the mighty hunting range]

The place is huge. The store itself must be several acres in size and it includes both an indoor shooting range and indoor archery range. I was running a bit late and once I arrived in the store, I had to call Kurt for directions to the archery range (on the second floor, no less!). There I met Kurt, the groom-to-be, Erik, Rich, Kurt's brother-in-law-to-be, Keith and Mike.

[The groom-to-be taking aim]

We had fun. The various animal targets (an alligator, bear, a wild boar, a few bucks) are on hydraulic lifts and can be raised or lowered by an operator. Given that I haven't shot an arrow since 8th grade, the bows were remarkably easy to use and we were all mostly able to hit (or just graze) the various tagets.

Gregory arrived just as we were leaving the Bass Pro Shop (he could only get a half-day off from work) for lunch. After a brief discussion, we decided to head to Ernie's Bar B Ques and Lounge (formerly known as “Dirty Ernie's”).

[Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways—Chardonnay in one hand—Chocolate in the other—body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming, “WOO HOO, What a Ride!”]

The story, as told by Kurt, is that Ernie opened up the place and covered the walls with his sayings on how to live life and whatnot (thus the former name—“Dirty Ernie's”). After a few years of running the place, he apparently got bored, up and left for parts unknown, without even selling the place.

Interesting character.

And good food. And drinks.

Mike warned Kurt that if he passed out tonight, Mike would make sure Kurt ended up with a permanent reminder of the night. It was my idea to make said reminder a tramp stamp. Mike wanted to make it a butterfly, I was leaning more towards My Little Pony, but we still had time to decide.

A few hours later, we arrived at Old Heidelberg for dinner. As this was later in the evening, this meant more friends, and we had the entire back room to ourselves, and two waiters (two friendly fellows by the name of Jeff and Leo). Joining us were Kurt's two other brothers, Neal and Kyle, Russ (who spent the day driving from Tampa), Keener (who spend the day driving from Blountstown, Florida, an even longer drive), Jeff and two other friends of Kurt whose names I didn't catch.

[You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy]

For the most part, the food was excellent and the deserts—oh—to die for (the Black Forrest Cake I had was indescribably good). After a few hours of dinner and conversation the group headed out to downtown Ft. Lauderdale for a round of bar hopping, but on the way, the evening was having its affect on Kurt and we ended up making several stops on the Bathroom Tour of Ft. Lauderdale™.

We did hit a couple of bars before Kurt felt the need to visit a “gentleman's club.” And while Ft. Lauderdale isn't Lost Wages, what happened there shall remain there. I will, however, make two comments about the “gentleman's club” we visitied:

  1. there were TV screens mounted everywhere and occasionally they would flash “Feel Free To Use Your Credit Card” and “We Have An ATM” (and as Dave Barry says, “I am not making this up”);

Fortunately for Kurt, he never did pass out (then again, how could anyone pass out with music that loud?). Unfortunately for us, we couldn't give him his tramp stamp.

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[The future's so bright, I gotta wear shades]

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