We ended up at a bar called Bartini. Which apparently wasn't paying their liquor taxes and was shut down the night before (idiots). But lucky me it was back up and running for Saturday's festivities. I drank and danced and drank some more. All I wanted to hear from the DJ was that one song, you know, "Tag team back again, check it and blah blah and let's begin, party on party people, let's hear some noise" and so on. WHOOMP THERE IT IS! The DJ wouldn't play it. Seriously? He was a douche. He said it was "too old".
As this was a complete and total bummer to my night, we decided to move bars. Next door. The ol' Cadillac Ranch. The old single girl haunt {well, one of them ;o)}. There's a mechanical bull and "too old" music. I marched right up to the DJ and WHOOMP THERE IT IS was all over the place. I danced with another Bachelorette. We shook our booties then mine got smacked by all her friends. Thank God I'll never see those people again.
Now I know you're not supposed to talk to or see your fiance during your bachelorette party, well, TOO BAD! Matt showed up once we went home. By that time we were down to my cousin, my sister-in-law, and myself. It was around 2:30. Not too late, I know, but once Matty and his friend were there we kept partying. We rocked out until 5:00 a.m. when we finally crashed. I really enjoyed him there. It's supposed to be your last hoorah, right? Well, I think having a final hoorah together is much more fun!
Here are a few of my favorites from the night. Matt actually took the best pictures. They were candids. Of himself watching TV, checking his watch, standing in the corner, his shoes. Unfortunately for everyone else, he decided to delete them the next morning. They were awesome. You just have to take my word for it.
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