maxim-ally exposed, the sequel

thursday. neither of us really wanted to go the party, but both of us felt like we needed to go. what did we have better to do, you ask? watch hockey, clean the house, watch hockey, wash our hair, maybe play video games (well, that'd just be me).

so we went.

it was pretty much what we expected, some type of weird hybrid between a strip club (minus the nudity) and a singles bar (plus free beer, as long as you'd drink budlight). it was also somewhat similar to a high school dance, but maybe that's just because i didn't talk to anyone and stood against the wall most of the nite.

highlights included: seeing the wife's friend very early in the evening as to not obligate us to stay for a long time, having the pictures taken in the photo booth turn out pretty well, seeing a friend of ours and simultaneously giving and receiving a "what the hell are you doing here?" look, 5 free bud lights (3 for me and 2 for the wife), break dancers, leaving early enough to catch the third period, OT, and shootout of the pred's victory against the phoenix coyotes.

i'm sure there was plenty of fun to be had were i a) a dirtbag and b) not accompanying my wife. the tennessee bikini team (or as the wife put it, "a bunch of chicks with tits, tans and tank tops") was there, in matching black tank tops and hoochie jeans. there were 3 cage dancers in the club, all wearing similar lingerie and dancing to the oomcha oomcha beat. there was the aforementioned photo booth, a place to be filmed and shown on the big screens and a bed where two more dancers were dancing and sometimes simulating acting naughty. oh, and there was this other "dancer" who did this "spinning from 2 slings hanging from a ceiling" thing. she was VERY flexible. were we at the carnival, it probably would've been pretty cool (and she probably would've been wearing more than a bra and boyshorts). all we could say was "i'm sure her parents are very happy they paid for 10 years of gymnastics lessons" and "i'm sure there are some guys up front who think they have a great view."

the moral of the story: we're not the clubbin' type. we would've been much more at home across the street at station inn. oh, that and, if you meet your obligations early on, you can still make it home in time to see hockey.