Bachelorette Party

So Cory's bachelorette party was Thursday night in Santa Fe. The plan was to go to dinner at a place called Coyote Cafe, followed by cocktails on the town. Dinner at Coyote Cafe did not materialize, mainly because the bitch who "owns" the restaurant had a stick up her ass and decided to get all hostile with us. In essence they don't take reservations, I stopped by early to give them a heads up there would be 12 of us there for dinner for a bachelorette party (read high drinking, big check). They were snappy with me, hostile in fact, but I arrived early, to let them know we would be there soon. Then the hostess got uber hostile and the "manager-owner" flipped her shit on me and told me "you have 4 minutes to get your asses in here or I am giving away your tables, this is MY restaurant and I will do what I want with the tables." Ummm ok psycho, they are parking and will be here in 3 minutes. Needless to say, psycho bitch from hell gives our tables away then proceeds to get shitty with us about it. We left and drank copious amounts of alcohol at a WONDERFUL restaurant, along with a super yummy, amazingly good meal, and exceptional service at the Pink Adobe. Seriously, the meal could not have been better, it seems karma was on our side, especially since the "owner" of the Coyote Cafe apparently was not interested in sales on a Thursday night. Her loss, our gain!

After a decadent meal and bottles of wine, we took the most random route into the Plaza for drinks. Cory stuck her head under the loin cloth of a statue...perhaps she thought he was a real (well-hung) man? We finagled drinks at the Ore House on the veranda before last call, where every man in the place had "suggestions" for after parties - including something about a "caboose club" which we assumed to be a euphemism for "gang rape in the park." Kate whipped out some "penis" blowers...HILARIOUS...

The party then took a strange and awkward trail through Santa Fe, while looking for "the Cowgirl." We stopped every man on the street to ask him if we were headed in the right direction. To which they all said yes. We were approached by 8000 groups of 5-6 men all crammed into the back of a Honda Civic, all wanting to "show us a good time." Really, you and 4 other sweating men wearing too much cologne are going to make room for us in that spacious Civic...so tempting. THEN the best part of "being lost" en route to Cowgirls including a man wearing a fishing vest, knee high socks, and goggles...that's right GOGGLES!

Now as you might imagine "Cowgirls" had quite a southwestern theme. It also had a cover charge, which Ursula and I took care of in short order. The conversation went something like this:
Me: "Is there a cover here?"
Bouncer: "Yeah, $10 cause of live music."
Ursula: "We're a bachelorette party."
Bouncer : "Uh Huh."
Me: "Wouldn't you like 10 hot women here partying for no cover or do you want us to go to the next bar up the street?"
Bouncer: checking out the bachelorette group "Why don't you ladies come on in."


Oh the hilarity of the evening. Our waiter was named Bryan and wearing a Cowboy hat. Cory determined that Bryan was not a "cowboy name" so she insisted on calling him "Clint Stonebreaker" for the rest of the evening, and he answered! Once the band began playing we hit the dance floor...several men would attempt to break into the party and dance with us, forcing us to pointedly dance with each other, at which point said men would back off to "watch" in hopes of experiencing Girls Gone Wild: Santa Fe. Pathetic really. But the hopeful optimism on their faces was clearly priceless, it could have been a mastercard commercial..."Cover charge for *Cowgirls* $10. 5 Sierra Nevada Pale Ales $20. A round of shots for the bachelorette party $25. Watching 10 girls make out on a dance floor...priceless." Certainly there was no making out on the dance floor, but the puppy dog looks on their faces obviously HOPING it would happen was classic.

At some point in the evening between hitting on the band - the singer was SUPER cute - drinking mucho margaritas, the tequila shots, and the interesting people, I talked Bryan aka Clint Stonebreaker, into giving me his Cowboy hat. Of course that was a good move on his part, as I OBVIOUSLY am the personification of what they meant by Cowgirl...I look like I'd wear leather chaps and rope cows, right? By the time we closed the bar it was necessary to take a taxi home, in part because we had no idea where the hell we were since we seemed to have walked to the Cowgirl via Arizona. Amazingly I did not experience a hangover the next day, despite being up for more than 24-hours and drinking far more tequila via margaritas then I've had in the last 10 years I think.