It's that time of the week again... Saturday.
The pitter patter of drunken bachelorette parties, the sweet sound of projectile vomitting, and phone calls from a not-so-sweet old lady claiming that prostitues have taken over the second floor has occupied most of this evening... and the bars haven't even closed yet.
We're free until it's time to run the audit so Vlademir and I are awaiting our Saturday treat... THE FACEPLANT. It's like hunting for the Lockness Monster. We often catch the very end of its appearance or hear the noise it makes, but usually miss this beautiful encounter. However, every once in a while fate is on our side and we are lucky enough to catch the mother of all drunken trainwrecks.
This Saturday we have 5 known bachelorette parties in the hotel. This means 5 times the drama and 5 times the laughs. I know, I know... it's rude to laugh AT people, but how do you expect me to react to 4 intoxicated women arguing over whose pink dress is the true shade of hot pink? They also informed me that the maid of honor was kicked out of the drinking binge early because her dress was salmon colored. Can we say BRIDEZILLA?... or better yet IDIOT? I wonder what their survival skills are like. I would watch that reality show. No make up, no phone, all crying.
The faceplant has yet to present itself to us, but I have faith. The bars just closed and the event draws near...
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