I did it. I did the New Orleans bachelor party trip, and I survived. I recently listed my rules for a successful bachelor party. This week we regale the very important rules that you completely forget about until it’s far too late. Many things are easy to overlook, I myself have made that mistake. Take this list as a warning shot, a word to the wise. Please remember these the next time you go on a weekend long trip/bender so you find yourself in a better place than I found myself in New Orleans.
I’m also happy to announce we have our first ever #MillenialFriday contributor, bachelor party participant and Twitter junkie, Taylor Edmonds, known colloquially as Tedmonds. Tedmonds made the great observation of these rules we overlooked until we arrived at the bachelor party. The rules are his, the commentary is mine. Enjoy. This shit will save lives.
1. Always take the Monday off after. You think you’ll be fine… you won’t.
You need a day to recover. Plain and simple, and sleeping on airplanes on and off throughout an afternoon does not count. You need an entire day to realign whatever it is that you misaligned. Get some sleep, for once. Buy groceries. Do laundry. Go for a job. Do something to get yourself back on the right track for the coming week. You are not the person you were on your trip. Take off Monday and recover. Your body, your mind, and your co-workers will thank you.
2. Stop going so hard the 1st night.
Everyone knows you party. I know you are excited to see your friends. It is very easy to get caught up in the excitement of a reunion when you first arrive. Do not go so crazy the first night you show up. It is a marathon not a sprint. Go out, have fun, laugh, catch up, even get drunk the first night. But do not stay out until the sun comes up on Thursday night if you are staying there until Sunday. Pace yourself.
3. Night Three is not for the faint of heart.
Welcome to the belly of the beast. This night will separate the men from the boys. Night One you have all the excitement of your reunion with your friends. You have all the excitement of being in a new city. Night Two you get to feel like you know what you’re doing. You know what bars are fun, you know which to avoid. Night Two is where you thrive. Night Three. Dreaded Night Three… Night Three any shine your new city once had has now faded. Going to the bar two nights in a row is whimsical, going three in a row is a cry for help. You no longer want to meet new people, but rather you miss your family. Your sins throughout the weekend begin to sit with you. If you can clear this hurdle and make it to the bars on this third night, you may be in for a treat. But you must muster whatever you have deep in you and answer the call. Night Three demands your resilience.
4. Bourbon Street Pizza will be the best pizza you’ve ever had in your life.
This is not a slice of pizza. This is a life raft. I understand this one is hyper-specific to New Orleans, but 3:00 a.m. is going to roll around and you’ll remember you ate some table bread at the restaurant seven hours ago. You’ve been downing shots and mixed drinks. Beer is the only carbohydrate you have processed in hours. Then the neon glow of a “Pizza” sign will creep into your peripherals. Without turning to look straight on the warm neon glow and subtle hum of the sign will remind you of a familiar place. A safe place. You walk inside and think, “Hm, I’ve never had cajun cheese pizza. I wonder if it’s good?” That thought is as fleeting as a thought could be. It doesn’t matter. You realize you need food to survive. The time for local cuisine is long gone and this food is here to serve a purpose. You surrender to the idea that you just need something in your stomach.
By bowing to the hunger you are reward with delight. In your drunken stupor you are surprised to find that this pizza is delightful. The crust doesn’t taste like cardboard; it taste like the Eucharist. The mere texture reminds you of the promise of paradise that awaits us in the life after this. The cheese isn’t burnt and rubbery, but rather a vehicle to deliver the gooey, tomato-flavored mixture into your gut and provide the needed nutrients to fuel a few more hours on Bourbon Street. Bourbon Street Pizza is a heaven sent vessel that saves lives.
5. You don’t need that 2nd adderall. Stop it.
I know, you don’t want to be the first person to pass out. Especially on Night Three, you’ve answered the bell. You’re in the late rounds. Your energy stores are depleted, so you turn to adderall. That makes perfect sense. I understand. Now, some time will go by and you will think “That adderall didn’t do anything. I better take another.” If you follow through with that heinous thought the next thing you know you will be watching the sun rise on your walk home, and you will miss all of tomorrow. Stop being ridiculous. You don’t need another adderall, and if I’m being honest, you should have split your first one.