I am PETRIFIED. My nerves haven’t trembled like this since Tommy B. and the Pats were driving down the field at the tail-end of Super Bowl LII (Eagles won 41-33 FYI).
Tomorrow, I embark on a journey that will change my life forever: my first (and hopefully only) bachelor party in Vegas.
I’m not a Vegas guy. If you took one look at me you’d probably realize that, and if you actually met me you would be as scared as I am for my own life.
In fact, I have been to Vegas two times. Did I have a good time? Objectively. Did things go awry extremely quickly resulting in significant financial and emotional repercussions? Heck yeah they did.
So far, here is the score:
Vegas: 4 (1 stolen phone, 1 phone left in an Uber, 1 cancelled American Airlines Flight, 1 cancelled Spirit Airlines Flight)
James: Negative Infinity (Loss of dignity, loss of personal possessions, loss of sleep, loss of trust in any and all airlines)
But this weekend is different. One of my best pals is getting married, and our typically low-key group is now about to experience an adventure that has only played in my head as scenes from the vintage-but-classic film (not enough people know about this one), The Hangover.
The above picture, featuring my pals Michael (far left) and Joe (far right) is how I expect us to be no less than 5 hours into the trip.
I am going to describe my friends in one word to give you a taste of the group we are about to head into battle with.
Jorge: Wild card
James (Me): Lunatic
I will be broadcasting it all weekend using the hashtag #SwingBach. Follow it, like it, and laugh your ass off at our shenanigans as we endure our first-ever Vegas bachelor party.
P.S. Exclusive first look at me Friday night when I run into #SaveLaSalleBASE supporter Ocho Cinco at the club