I Know I'm a Woman, But Could I Go To the Stag Instead of the Shower?


The Sunday after Thanksgiving I have a wedding shower I have to attend.

I don’t want to go, but I would hurt a friend’s feelings greatly if I didn’t show up. So, I’m resigned that after a nice Thanksgiving holiday, I will end the weekend by being holed up in a VFW hall with a bunch of women I don’t know, eating cookies and drinking Kool-Aid, watching a woman I also don’t know open presents, pretending to blush at the see-through nightie given to her by her mother, even though she’s been living with the groom-to-be for over a year.

Yeah, sounds great doesn’t it?

What I resent even more is that while the little ladies are making ribbon bouquets and eating frosted almonds, the men will be watching a game, drinking beer, eating hot wings and chips at a local pub. Exactly where I’d choose to be if I had a choice.

Hell, I’d rather go to a stag and play poker, watch a grainy porn flick and eat meatball grinders than sit in the hall on a folding chair, pretending to be interested in the gifts, the crappy food and the woman sitting next to me whoever she is, although I’ll bet she will have way too much perfume on.

I am not a woman’s woman, I’m more of a man’s woman. I love sports and beer. I do not like showers and never have. The only shower I ever enjoyed was a Jack and Jill shower I once went to; they had a keg and a bocce court, lots of great food and it was held outside so everyone wore jeans.

Now that’s a shower I wouldn’t mind attending.

The rest make me want to stick a fork in my eye.