One of my oldest friends from childhood decided to do the dirty and marry the man she loves. But before she slapped on the ball and chain, I decided to throw her a bachelorette party that would have us drunk and partially naked for 48 hours. Annapolis, Maryland, where the festivities took place, is a perfect town for such a weekend as it is teeming with virile Naval academy gents in spanking white uniforms. The odds are good and the goods aren’t odd.
If I ever grow a third eye and find myself really desperate to get some XY chromosome action, I am thumbing my way to Annapolis where the men are plentiful, patriotic, and very well-groomed. The bachelorette weekend had one of our attendees offering her services as a fluffer, a professional baseball player practicing his striptease for us, and a renewed love for tequila shots and the boys who buy them for you. Unfortunately, we were not arrested for indecent exposure, nor did we spend the night sandwiched between Midshipman, but we got darn close.