Drunks

Bachelor parties are a mixed blessing for we limo drivers. On one hand, it’s a bunch of drunken men out for a good time.

On the other, it’s a bunch of drunken men out for a good time.

The arc of these nights always follows a basic plan.

At the start:

– bravado
– bright eyes and clear speech
– “Hey, Driver!”

Somewhere between the second bar and the strip club:

– doubt
– half-smoked cigarettes, half-drunk beers and half-arsed conversations
– “Wombat, dude, take us to where the laaaayyydeees are, mate!”

And around last call:

– childhood reversion
– stumbling, tears, tempers
– “You’re the best Wombat, thanks for looking after us.”

Whatever the aim of these evenings, only bar owners, strippers and limousine owners come out smiling. Participants get regret.

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