A Bachelor Party in Boystown?
We’ve written before about the issues some people in Boystown have with bachelorette parties hitting the bars on the strip. There are a few camps on this issue, with most people generally falling into a category that doesn’t particularly like these girls coming to gay bars to have their parties, but understanding that they do spend SOME money in the bars, and that’s a great thing in the Obama Economy (where we are all STILL waiting for that hope and spare change we were promised).
Some guys actively hate the bachelorettes and want them banned, because in many cases these girls seem to be more trouble than they are worth. They come into a bar, scream and shout, are loud the entire time they are in there, and leave after having one round of shots and taking as many pictures as they can of the guys in the bar. This makes a lot of gay guys feel like they are animals in a zoo being gawked at – so much so that bars like Cocktail, Charlie’s, and others have a no-bachelorettes policy because of this.
Personally, we like seeing 90% of these girls out and about. It’s very rare for us to encounter the obnoxious, stomach-turning, point-and-gawk suburbanites who prompted the negative reaction against these parties. Usually, the girls who come to Boystown for their bachelorette party are either mousy, had-no-better-idea girls with friends or cousins who hang around with a lot of gay dudes (what we call a fairy’s princess, but some of you might still refer to in the pejorative as a “fag hag”) or they’re cool girls, elegant, with a sense of humor who are out for a Sex and the City sort of night and they’ve made Boystown one of their stops — a highlight — but not the be-all, end-all of the adventure.
That last batch of girls can be amazing, actually, especially when they dress up. Either dress to the nines and look better styled than girls off a magazine shoot, or dress up ridiculously, like as variations of Lady Gaga or where they each dress like a different 80s singer and go out for a theme night. Love. Those. Girls. They are a lot of fun, and never make anyone in the bar feel awkward, and never scream and shout and annoy other patrons.
Now, none of these women tip well. Ever. So it is a pain for the bartenders…or, worse, the strippers, in Boystown. As we’ve talked about before, the standard tip in bar is a dollar a drink. Anything less than that and you shouldn’t be going out. Save your money until you can afford to show courtesy, because the bartenders work really hard. It’s not an easy job. Trust us on that. Bachelorette parties tend to be incredibly high maintenance, time-consuming, and attention-demanding…but with no compensatory tip at the end to make it a bartender’s worthwhile. Worse, the girls at a bar will drive other paying customers a way, so not only are they not taking care of their bartender, but they are costing him business just by being there, since older gay men in particular don’t want to be around the bachelorette parties. And, of course, the older guys are the ones who actually tip…a lot…so it’s a multiple-whammy for the staff when these girls hold court in a bar on a Friday or Saturday night (AKA, the nights service industry employees make all their money for the week).
Strippers get hosed by bachelorette parties because they expect all these guys to be Chippendales’ dancers, and to do acrobatic tricks on the stage, and to dote on them, when that’s not what happens in a gay bar. Guys, especially older ones, will tip a male go-go dancer well for just standing there in his underwear. He doesn’t have to move at all and he’ll make $25 in fifteen minutes up there on the stage. If he knows a few moves and can keep time to the music and work the crowd, he’ll do much better. But, he doesn’t have to break a sweat to get tipped well by guys. Women expect him to be what they’ve seen on TV, but they won’t reward him for the effort. While guys will slip him fives (or even tens, for some of the grandpas who are making up for all the years they lost playing it straight), women will begrudgingly give him a single or two, screaming and yelling the whole time, and once again chasing away the actual, paying customers. Guys also buy the strippers drinks, which they like, because contrary to popular belief the bars don’t supply drinks for free. Women in gay bars just don’t take care of the staff, but expect the staff to cater to them, to the detriment of actual, paying, gay, male customers. Which the bars were opened to cater to.
So, that’s part of the backstory with why bachelorette parties aren’t especially loved here in Boystown. Some people will tell you that there’s a big political unspoken issue regarding gay marriage in this too, but that’s nonsense. It’s all about money, folks. The women in gay bars don’t tip well, they don’t treat the staffs of other patrons well (in general), and they drive business away. No one is jealous these women are getting married. None of us want to be in their weddings. None of us wish we could have a “bachelorette party” too. Because, frankly, we can have any sort of party we want, any day of the week, and it’s guaranteed to be fabulous. There’s a better chance than not that Cyndi Lauper or Liza Minnelli would stop by, or even perform, and the whole thing would be like an elaborate photo shoot for Vogue. No one is stopping any gay from having a party and calling it whatever he wants. And no one is stopping any of us from getting “married” either — because we know of about five “married” gay male couples who had a commitment ceremony, and a big party, and did gay “bachelor” parties too. A good lawyer, the right paperwork, and legally binding contractual agreements can give two guys (or two women) the same legal rights that Britney Spears had with that guy she was married to for about fifteen hours. It might take more work, and more creativity on the part of a good lawyer, but if a gay can dream it in this world, he can use some of his magic to make it happen.
There just needs to be another word invented for it than “marriage”, because we think that word should be reserved for people who had a religious ceremony. Everyone should have to go to city hall and file paperwork for a civil union…and then people who belong to churches or temples or whatever can get “married” in a sacramental ceremony of their choosing. Just as we all get birth certificates, but the religious then get baptized afterwards. The state does not baptize, and the state should not marry. It should only join in legal unions…of which any two consenting adults of legal age should be able to enter into together.
“Partnership” is not a good word, because it’s already taken by lawyers and others in business relationships. “Spousehood” is something we’ve tried to use, but it’s so awkward. One day, it will hit us like lightning what a word for two guys together, legally joined would be…and what a corresponding word for two lesbians would be. Then, there would be correct verbiage for all possible variations on the them: marriage, for straight people who had a religious ceremony…domestic partnership for straight people who are joined by the state but who did not have a religious ceremony…”X” for two men joined by the state…and “Y” for two lesbians joined by the state. Maybe two more options would be created for two men and two women who go on to have some sort of religious ceremony of their own in the future, after the state joining. You could spend all day obsessing over verbiage and semantics like this, and it’s honestly too gorgeous of an end of summer day to do that.
But, we did want to note that something happened last night at Roscoe’s here in Boystown that actually made us feel that angst, frustration, and insult that we’ve always heard some people felt towards those bachelorette girls, but which we’ve never personally felt on our own.
And it took a bachelor party hitting Boystown to make us feel this way.
“Bachelor Party” in the traditional sense, with an obnoxious frat boy, man-child, straight guy and his buddies who decided to come to Boystown to “see the fags” and raise a little Hell in an environment in which they thought they’d get the better of everyone.
They appeared right around the same time as a large trolley full of drunken bachelorette girls rolled down Halsted, making a brief stop in front of Cocktail so the girls could flash their breasts at the windows and generally establish how drunk they were. When no one paid them a bit of attention, or indulged whatever exhibitionistic fetishes they were trying to work out, the disappointed bride-to-be and her entourage pulled away, no doubt heading for Wrigleyville where they could flash away and get all sorts of freebies all night as a result. This is, quite frankly, where these sorts of antics belong…on Chicago’s version of Bourbon Street, just a block west of Boystown.
We never saw the bachelor party enter, so they must have done so during the trolley’s commotion, but we couldn’t miss them once they were inside. The bachelor was late-20s, and the sort of guy we imagine works as a day trader or something else professional and testosterone-fueled downtown. He wore a neon-colored shirt somewhere north of chartreuse, emblazoned with RIP 10/01/10 on his back…the date we presume he’s either to be married, or executed (or, a little of both, depending on your position on marriage). He’s the sort of guy who has to announce his presence in every room he enters so even the blind and deaf person in the back corner knows he’s there. We can’t imagine he’s much different starting work every morning, because guys like this only allow alcohol to amplify who they typically are…but no amount of booze can really turn a naturally nice, decent guy into a jackass. He has to be a jackass to start with, but one who keeps it under control most days.
The bachelor’s buddies were all tools — late-20s as well, and probably a mix of some guys he went to college with (frat buddies, most likely) and guys from the office. Absolutely all of them were as straight as straight could be, and were dressed hideously in mismatched checks and stripes, like they’d been shopping with Michelle Obama at the Men’s Wearhouse or J.C. Penny’s. They had a white sheet of paper with them that was some sort of scavenger hunt checklist, and they drafted a girl who looked like Jersey Shore’s Snookie to help them fill in a few of the spaces. It was a photo scavenger hunt, so they had to take pictures of the bachelor doing various things…like walking a stranger’s dog, talking to a cop, kissing a fat girl, etc.
And, yes, they actually did go up to a large woman in Roscoe’s and asked to take their picture with her. About the only thing we’ll give these guys points for was the fact they were dead honest about everything they were doing: they were upfront with the girl and told her they needed a pic with a “fat chick” and they accurately surmised this particular girl would have no problem with the label. She thought it was a blast, in fact, and took the pic with no problem. Everyone in the bachelor party laughed, and the “fat chick” laughed with them, but the rest of the people in the bar got more and more uncomfortable the longer these clowns were in there.
For the first time, we understood what those people were talking about when they said they felt the bachelorette parties made them uncomfortable, as if the girls were visiting the zoo.
We saw the bachelor and his friends looking down their lists, then scoping the bar to see if there were any other potential scavenger items to snap off. They must have had a cigar store Indian on the list, because they took a picture of themselves with one that’s positioned prominently in Roscoe’s front window (with Roscoe’s essentially being a cross between a TGI Friday’s and your grandmother’s attic in terms of decor). Maybe that’s what drew them into the bar in the first place (though Blue Havana, an actual smoke shop, is just a few streets away, and it has SEVERAL of these Indians they could have photographed themselves with).
The bachelor kept going in and out of the bar to puff on a big, fat cigar, while his friends nervously followed him in and out. The bachelor was being overly gregarious, talking to everyone who was walking by, though few of them wanted to talk to him. He made a big show about how much he didn’t have a problem with being in Boystown, showing how straight he was by how loud and boisterous he was being, but how open-minded he was that he was there on his bachelor party night.
The whole thing was weird, really.
Security kept watching the group like hawks, to see if they said or did anything that would warrant booting them. They didn’t buy any drinks, and were just milling around, looking at items for their list, when finally Sebastian said he’d had enough of this and was going over to end it.
So, he took off his shirt, and strode over to the bachelor on his last trip back inside. Bast, shirtless, then proceeded to flirt with the guy and test how much he could take. Remember, the guy was making a big show of how cool he was with being a bachelor in Boystown, and how gregarious and cool of a guy he was in general, and Bast maneuvered this against him.
It lasted about a minute, where Bast asked him if he was marrying a guy or a girl, and when the bachelor said, “Uh, duh, a girl” Bast asked him “Well, what are you doing here, stud?”. “Because if you’re spending your bachelor party here, chief, maybe your fiancee needs to know a thing or two about you before the wedding night”.
The bachelor had to laugh, that strained, nervous sort of laugh straight guys use when they are embarrassed…and he waited until the next song started playing before he decided he wanted to leave, so it didn’t look like he was being run out of there, but that pretty much did it.
He and his buddies poured out of the bar, and high-tailed it to the cars they had parked in the 711 lot across the street. They headed north, to points unknown, but for all we know they could have been going to Crew, Wild Pug, Jackhammer’s, Touche, or even Man’s Country (a favorite of at least two married men who currently work in the White House).
If a bachelor party starts off in Boystown at Roscoe’s, there’s no limit to the amount of gay bars it could end up.
The whole thing was just bizarre. And a very effective deployment of a shirtless Sebastian to solve a problem, yet again. We were going to use Panda, but that would have been overkill. And it could have resulted in a bachelor-shaped hole in the wall near the door as he tried to make his escape.
It was a damper to the night feeling like these straight guys had come out to make fun of the guys who were out at Roscoe’s. But, on the same note, it was such a puzzle these guys would WANT to come down to Boystown to do something like this in the first place. Every once in a while, there’ll be a carload of little suburban punks (who must have just gotten their license) that will roll through Boystown, with all but the driver shouting “FAGS!” as loud as they can. They’re all intensely stupid, of course, because 70% of the population of Boystown spends 3 hours a day in the gym, doing cardio and heavy lifting, so shouting something like that results in a couple dozen bodybuilders chasing your car down the street. We’ve never seen what happens when guys catch up with a car like that and let those inside have it, but we bet it wouldn’t be pretty.
This isn’t 1980 anymore. It’s 2010, and this is not a zoo for straight people’s amusement or a place for little punks to come and shout pejoratives. Boystown should be a safe place to come and have fun, with the goal of an evening never being to see how many people you can make fun of.
It’s sad if any bachelor or bachelorette would want to start their marriage off by being cruel to anyone, even strangers, and gays in particular. We can’t imagine what sort of union would follow a beginning like this…but maybe that explains the high rate of divorce amongst punks like these.
The first, of course, to cry about the “sanctity of marriage” whenever gay couples want to commit…and do it in a way that does not involve a scavenger hunt through Wrigleyville making fun of anyone.
© 2010, HillBuzz. All rights reserved.
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Why on earth would a bachelor party go to Boyz Town, weird. If I see one more bride to be out and about with a veil on I think I’ll scream. This is with out a doubt the me me me generation. God help us all
“Why on earth would a bachelor party go to Boyz Town, weird.”
I dunno, maybe they wanted to make sure he wouldn’t get drunk and stray, or could do something he would not – all his future plans coming to fruition – ever be able to do after the wedding.
A more pertinent question is why go there and not respect the rules and culture? Why be a bother, and not give the right tips?
There’s nothing necessarily wrong or disrespectful with going to a radically diferent bar. I’ve taken straight male friends to gay bars. It’s when people act like the rules of courtesy and decorum that they show contempt. They seem to assume that, because LGBTs don’t have heterosexual sex, or at least not exclusively, they must not adhere to social norms.
And the thing is, as shy as I am, I’ve found that it’s not that hard to ask, in whatever situation: “Hey, what’s the usual tipping practice (or whatever) around here?” Most people are very happy to let you know how the locals roll. . .
Answer to many of these questions:
” They didn’t buy any drinks, and were just milling around, looking at items for their list, . . .”
They were just obnoxious dudes, possibly too drunk to be otherwise, fulfilling their mission, i.e. their list, which might even have been to go to that particular bar or street, or boyx town in general.
Unfortunately, there are many obnoxious, self absorbed, inconsiderate people like that. Just look what we have in the WH.
right – there were no girls to impress with their big stash of money and big tipping, so there was no need to take out the wallet.
The rules of basic courtesy and RESPECT should be for and to everyone.
Let me add; no one like being the focus the SLUMMING attitude.
Yet another reason I thoroughly enjoy living in the country. Of course…I could drive an hour north and have the same problems in Nashville but…no thanks.
I came to the conclusion years ago that basically…people suck. The less people there are the less problems there are.
One rule I stick with and that I’ve taught my children: Being a server took a huge chunk of my life and I enjoyed it and have fond memories as a cocktail server, sometimes bartender (more of a fill-in) and run of the mill server…ALWAYS tip well. Even if the person is slammed and in the weeds and sucks; I tip even more. If the food takes forever but the server looks guilty? I tip well. If there was an hour wait and the hostess screwed up and skipped my name? I tip the well. If the food wasn’t cooked right and I send it back? I tip well. There is only one instance when I won’t tip well…if the server absolutely, positively gets an attitude. Then I will leave a standard 15% tip.
When my kids were little we’d make a game at the table when we went out. I’d tell the server “Hey, my kids decide what to leave for a tip and you’d be AMAZED how generous they can be”. At the end of the meal they started the bids…and it was not unusual for my kids to leave a 50% tip if the server kept them entertained. But the main thing was I TAUGHT my kids how much to appreciate the people who bust their buns to serve you. People who get all technical and demanding and are a pain in the arse and tip bad? You suck.
marriage, for straight people who had a religious ceremony…domestic partnership for straight people who are joined by the state but who did not have a religious ceremony…”X” for two men joined by the state…and “Y” for two lesbians joined by the state. Maybe two more options would be created for two men and two women who go on to have some sort of religious ceremony of their own in the future, after the state joining.
This is what I don’t get. Why do we need to come up with new names for gays/lesbians that are joined in civil union or in who then have a religious ceremony to affirm their union? Currently, if you are straight & you’re married by a priest or by the justice of the peace you still are considered by the whole of society to be a married couple. Even if you don’t have the religious ceremony no one calls you “civil partners” or whatever. They just call you married. And since there are a number of religious denominations that currently affirm same-sex marriages I don’t see any reason why gays/lesbians should have to come up with a special new name for what is a marriage regardless of whether or not they said thier “I do’s” in front of a judge or a minister.
If society is going to co-opt the word “marriage” as it did centuries ago and slap it on all kinds of relationships (arranged marriages, marriages of convenience, inter-racial marriage, civil marriage, etc) why should society complain when the same word is applied to same-sex unions? It just puzzles me.
I didn’t know bachelorettes went to gay bars for their parties. I think it’s weird. I can see why people might feel uncomfortable. It’s a bit like being a tourist attraction or a side show. That’s fine if you’re a performance artist and you want an audience, but not if you’re just trying to live your life and hang out with some friends in a bar.
The comment about slumming is true, too. When I was younger we used to have a group of uptowners who would come over to the wrong side of the tracks for entertainment. They’d invade our working class bar, and basically slum with the little people. I don’t ever recall any problems, but they made everybody feel like crap.
Back in my wild and crazy days of yore, sometimes my girlfriends and I would go to gay bars. Never more than 4 or 5 of us, and we were never rowdy or rude, and we tipped WELL.
The main reason we went there was that we would get tired and disgusted of being hit on at the straight bars, by a bunch of egotistical, drunken mental midgets, who thought they were God’s gifts. Some of them sounded just like the clowns in the bachelor party at Roscoe’s.
Sometimes we were in the mood for it, but sometimes we just preferred to go out, have a few drinks, enjoy some good music and not be hassled to death. Also, there was ALWAYS lots of lovely (harmless) eye candy!
If I had to have a bachelorette party in a bar, I’d prefer it be a gay bar. (Of course, if I have to be at a bar under any circumstance, I’d prefer it be a gay bar. That’s what I get for getting my MFA in musical theatre.)
However, I’ll tell ya, as a fat chick, if some group of drunk fratboys came up to me looking for a scavenger hunt photo, I’d be hard pressed not to say something along the lines of,”Oh, you need a picture of me? What a coincidence! All I have left on MY list is to get a photo with a jackass. I’m glad you found me!”
I love your answer! How incredibly rude to ask a fat person to take a pic with them because they are fat. Is there no such thing as kindness anymore? If I were the bride to be, and I knew my fiancee had done that, I would really question whether he was the husband I wanted. But like meets like, I guess.
Loved this story. Very informative. Sebastian has a big brass pair. Go Sebastian!
and we’d love some pix!
The bachelor was late-20s, and the sort of guy we imagine works as a day trader or something else professional and testosterone-fueled downtown. He wore a neon-colored shirt somewhere north of chartreuse, emblazoned with RIP 10/01/10 on his back…the date we presume he’s either to be married, or executed (or, a little of both, depending on your position on marriage).
This is why my husband despises the trashy bachelor parties. He says there is never a “last” one, since someone else will inevitably get married. It shows such a lack of respect for marriage, for the bride and even for the groom, if you think about it. He had a bunch of guys who either grew up with him or helped him grow up come for his bachelor party and they ate pizza drank beer/root beer and told stories about life, marriage, gave him advice, teased him a bit.
My husband didn’t have one at all. Maybe went out to dinner with some friends? Can’t remember, but didn’t want to do the strip club/whatever thing. Didn’t really have any friends who would be wanting to organize something like that anyway. I’m glad, that’s not the person he is, and not someone I would want to marry.
I think it’s that some men/boys think ‘oh, that’s what I’m *supposed* to do – they see it in the movies, and they follow that. it’s really dumb and stupid and has gotten dumber and stupider, with people going away for weekends, etc. pretty much allows one to separate the wheat from the chaff.
I have been to exactly one bachelor party that ended up at a strip bar, and that was years ago. All the others have been classy–dinner, drinks, maybe cigars later. I really don’t understand these scavenger hunts, etc. I personally would just leave the party and go home.
I don’t get it either. My sister is like that. We were in the south at a visitor’s center when she asked the lady at the counter about a Baptist Church. She wanted to go to a service where they all wave their hands around and dance..like it is entertainment rather than their worship! I was so embarrassed.
That’s my grandmother’s church in Mississippi. Church of Christ. Used to scare me to death.
In Nashville I worked at Opryland as a teenager and I remember the “yankees” came down and would ask “Where are the hillbillies?” These were the Hee Haw years (which I truly hated). I would put on my finest Dolly Parton accent and they’d shell out the tips…worked every time.
I worked off and on as a server a good part of my life. I loved it and I got great tips generally because I loved it. It was challenging to anticipate what people needed and to be one step ahead. For a long time I remember we, the servers, would sit around after a shift and compare horror customers and the no-tippers and the like. At some point I came to the realization that in general…people suck. But then, I did the math. No matter who sucked, at the end of the night I generally had the same amount of money I always did which was usually great. The over-tippers made up for the total buttholes who didn’t tip. It’s a law of averages. Yes…once in a blue moon you had a lousy night but those were rare.
The moral of my story is…People suck and there’s not a darn thing you can do to change that fact. Once I came to that conclusion I was much happier. Instead of letting one or two tables of creeps ruin my night I just shrugged it off and smiled and enjoyed the rest of my customer’s company and got compensated for it, therefore I “won”. If I let the creeps “win” they ruined my attitude and I got lousy tips.
I used to wait tables, too. That was the philosophy I took. I still deal with the public, but at a different level. I will have to say, it is getting harder and harder to deal with them. And I am not the only one in my profession who says that. They really are nuts.
It truly is a game. Once you master not letting anyone get to you…it really makes a difference. Just ask yourself…In 48 hours will this person have any importance in my life? Of course not. It’s not the butthole …it’s how you deal with them that matters. If YOU let them get to you…that’s YOUR problem, not theirs, right?
That’s actually a skill of Martial Art and Chinese philosophy. Tai Chi and Tao. It changed my life and how I deal with people.
When I waitresses years ago, I always treated everyone with the same great, cheerful enthusiasm. Like Bev, I generally liked being there and doing the work. This rubs off on people. If a no-tipper came in a second time, I still gave them top-notch treatment. One very low tipper came in every weekend. One day this couple left sixty dollars (mind you, this was 32 years ago so that was alot) with a note, “We saw five dollar bills on several table as we went to the bathroom and realize we don’t tip properly. Thank you and here is for the times you gave us great service and we underpaid you.”
Also, same philosophy was taught to my brothers (and now my sons) in reference to women. “Just because a girl is loose or a slut does not mean you quit being a gentleman. Treat ALL women with respect and as a lady.”
Then there are those nights that make up for the lousy ones, too…so it all about evens out.
I used to wait tables too. I looked at it as my acting career. I would always be happy and bubbly and smiling. No matter what, cause that was my job.
When I’m out and about, no matter what happens at the meal – as long as people are pleasant and helpful and trying – they get a tip. If they’re rude…of any sort, then, well, I’m not as nice.
“Bachelor-shaped hole” is worthy of Wodehouse.
Reason #643 that I heart Bast. Rock on, Bast, rock on.
And yes, those creeps sounded douche-tastic.
Yes. Bast has proven, once again, that he is The Man.
ZurichMike went to bars in his checkered past and squandered youth. Now he is in bed, sleeping, by 9:30 pm on any given night — perhaps 10:30 on weekends. You darn kids! LOL!
I hear you on that ZurichMike. I’ve also graduated to yelling at neighborhood kids to get off my lawn. Its all just part of growing up.
it’s crazy when my husband and I look at each other, at 9:30 on a saturday night and say: oh, i’m tired, i’m going to bed…
There just needs to be another word invented for it than “marriage”, because we think that word should be reserved for people who had a religious ceremony. Everyone should have to go to city hall and file paperwork for a civil union…and then people who belong to churches or temples or whatever can get “married” in a sacramental ceremony of their choosing. Just as we all get birth certificates, but the religious then get baptized afterwards. The state does not baptize, and the state should not marry. It should only join in legal unions…of which any two consenting adults of legal age should be able to enter into together.
I couldn’t have said it better myself. They do this in Europe. As much as I despise the idea of doing something like the Europeans, this is what they do, everyone has a civil ceremony at Town Hall, then off to the religious event. I wonder what they call it there.
Both are called “marriage”, although one is the “civil marriage” and the other “church marriage”. In the eyes of the state, only the civil marriage matters.
On that note, yesterday ZurichMike and his Swiss partner celebrated their the anniversary of their civil union (but we’ve been together for 8 years). The Swiss voted for civil union in an overwhelming majority of cantons and votes (including conservative voters) because it was a civil union, not marriage, that was conferred. We have the same civil rights as a heterosexual couple who are joined in union civilly, except we cannot adopt children or accelerate the citizenship process.
“celebrated the third anniversary”
It’s only 6:26 am here and I haven’t had my second cup of coffee! LOL!
Congratulations, Mike!
Congratulations! Huzzah! *throws confetti* Happy Anniversary!
Mike,
How about “spousal union” for the legal term where both partners are human and each person is limited to one legally recognized “spousal union”. This negates the slippery slope argument that people would marry anything and engage in polygamy.
The participants of a “spousal union” would be referred to in the more neutral term of “spouse” rather than husband or wife….just spit ballin’ here.
Congratulation, Mike and SP!
I remember in the lead up to my marriage, we had to go to the courthouse and apply for a license in the county in which we were going to be married. The minister and two witnesses signed the license after the ceremony and it was mailed back to the county courthouse. A couple of weeks later, we received the executed marriage license, certifying we are contractually bound (married).
Absent the minister, the marriage license is a contract that is recorded, like a deed with the county. I frankly see no reason why a “religious” connotation should be attached to the contractual nature of a marriage. People make legal commitments to each other all the time that also require a contract to end the relationship as well.
Go to the religious house of your choosing to have your union “sanctified” if that is important to you. Abide by the custom of your particular faith in that respect.
Everything else is contractual and the ease with which one enters into that contract should be available regardless of sexual orientation.
I just have to get this off my mind:
First of all, any normal, heterosexual female that has lived or partied with gay guys knows that being in their company surpasses hanging with her girlfriends, hetero guy friends, and mixed company in general, at least as far as my experience. Gay guys make you feel like a queen, make you feel beautiful, loved, adored, and pamper you. They fix your hair, your ego, and unbelievable meals for you, while your guy friends pretend to be your friends, and then try and make moves on you, and girl friends, while still fun and great, never make you feel as special as your gay friends do. period. So, as far as bachlorette parties go, I can understand that quite easily, (but feel bad they don’t tip properly). Understanding the bachelor parties, not so much.
But with regard to where I thought this post on marriage was going, I got all excited thinking the boyz were headed in a direction I so subscribe to, i.e. that marriage is between one man and one woman. I didn’t really know where the boyz stood on this and always wanted to know, so you can be sure I am waiting with baited breath for the boyz to come up with the right term for ‘their’ partnerships. It is something that has always nagged at me, and I have tried to think of the right term as well – - – and have only come up with ‘civil unions’ to date, so please boyz, when it does “hit” you, I look forward to your post.
Me too. Years ago I gave up and accepted “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” for the unmarried sexual partner, though it doesn’t quite fit the mature relationship. Has no society in the history of the world had a special word for this? Anybody? Anywhere?
Old Crank, I so agree. A mature, longtime relationship, of even decades, seems so understated when called “my boyfriend/girlfriend” when lives are so intertwined and shared. Perhaps that’s why marriage was so important to me, and why the boyz will figure out the term sooner than later for them ; )
Why would so-caled straightuys want to have a Bachelor Party in a gay bar? Hmmmmm? Methinks they may not be so “straight” after all.
That would not have even been an option for DH. HoYay perhaps?
Do we know where Utopia had his bachelor’s party?
Jeremiah Wright probably organized an extra-special outing of the downlow club for the occasion.
I can’t imagine that these bachelorette/bachelor parties have no more imagination than childish behavior at the expense of guys in Boyztown. Maybe I am old-fashioned, but it would never fly with me. It is obvious that the behavior is derogatory so how can anyone with half a brain and half a heart participate?
My first encounter with the New Age Bachelorette species was in the mid ’90s. We were at a place that was an outdoor bar/dance club, waiting for the door man to check ID. Out came a conga line of women, the one at the head of the line holding a giant inflatable penis. I had been in every kind of nightspot up to that point, but this was a new one on me.
We later saw that particular party in the club. They were loud and obnoxious, and drinking out of penis-shaped straws. It was all pretty confusing until they put a bridal veil on the head of the girl carrying the big plastic dong. That’s when we figured out it was bachelorettes. The overall impression was one of crudity and classlessness.
It’s just an effect of the overall coarsening of our culture. Even standard issue weddings are not immune from this new breed of ostentatious, loud guest who seeks to draw attention to itself by outrageous antics. The result of a generation being told it’s OK to “express themselves” when really the only thing they have to express are base impulses.
p.s. I am trying to get a gravatar, but haven’t figured it out yet.
Oh God, that reminds me of the “goodby to the seniors” party my (all-female) college dorm had. All the presents were sexually related – penis straws, vibrators, a shot glass that looked like a penis with testicles, et cetera. After the whole thing was done I discreetly threw them all in the garbage, although I did briefly consider keeping the vibrator for a back massager.
Boyzz,
Sorry, for no gravatar, one of the reasons I haven’t posted for a very long time. While reading your post it got me to thinking about a situation we, my husband and I, had on Saturday. We had taken our two Grandboys to a 5 star private member owned camping resort we have belonged to since 1987, along time. Our kids grew up there in the summers (our middle son the Daddy of the two Grandboys). This is a very very nice place with an olympic sized swimming pool as well as many other amenities. Long story short, a group of 20 somethings couples approximately 6 or 7 and their young children came to the pool. They were guests of an older gentleman that is a member of Hart Ranch or Coast to Coast. Promptly one young father went to the kiddy pool and plopped his baby in along with his shod feet. The pool monitor went up to him and asked if he would please take his sandals out of the pool as they were “very dirty”. Later after they got out the little guy had on a disposable diaper that just gushed water and whatever out. By the way, there is a sign that “prohibidatos” diapers of any kind and only allows the swimmers that are a special type of disposable swimsuit for babies. Well, you guessed it the monitor had to again confront the parents that this wasn’t allowed and that the swimmers could be purchased over at a stand near by. When this group finally left they left the place a mess with trash scattered on the ground and chairs moved out of place etc. When the monitor came over to pick up after them she told me she called this age group the LOST GENERATION and the ENTITLED GENERATION. My comment was,”What were they modeling for their children!?” I see your bachelors and bachelorettes as embodiments of her descriptions of this age group. They have no thoughts of how their behavior effects others and DO NOT CARE for that matter. It is all about them and what they want or want to do.
I apologize that I am not as eloquent as most of the other members of Hillbuzz, but you get my point.