And the Bride Wore White

I've had plenty of my own dating disasters, but I think I caused the best one after I got engaged. It was my bachelorette party, and I was out with a bunch of friends. As is the way with such things we proceeded to get pretty hammered and I was tackling a long list of "tasks" I'd been assigned for the evening. I'd already tackled the easy things such as getting a kiss from our waiter, getting some guy to hand over his underwear, and getting someone at the bar to sing "here comes the bride." Now it was on to the tough stuff. I had a handful of things to do that needed a willing male participant. We saw two guys standing next to each other and the lot of us approached them.

They're psyched to see all these women and start joking around with us. Then two women walk over, scowl at us, and the guys snap to attention--turns out they're with these two. The guys go back to talking to their dates, and we walked away. A little bit later one of the guys comes over and talks to us some more.

"I'm sorry we made you get in a fight with your girlfriend," I said.

"Oh, she's not a girlfriend. It's a first date," he answers. "It's also our last." Right then, his date walks over and says, "If you even care, I'm going to the bathroom." The moment she's gone he announces he's willing to be the guinea pig for some of the tasks. He volunteered for the tough job of using his navel as a holder for a body shot. Two of my girlfriends support him as he leans backwards, another friend pours some tequila into his belly button and I lap it up.

It is, of course, at exactly this point that our hero's woman comes back from the ladies room. He jumps up and starts wiping alcohol off his bare stomach. He looked like someone who'd been caught in the act of cheating--which, ok, he kind of was--and stammers what was clearly the first thing he could think of: "Where've you been? I've been looking for you everywhere!" Yeah, "everywhere," like the ceiling his eyes focused on as he lay back for a body shot.

"I told you I was going to the bathroom!" she said. She grabbed her purse, and walked out of the bar. He tried to follow her . . . but um, I couldn't get the key out to un-handcuff him from my arm fast enough. Hey, it was on my list--I had to be handcuffed to him for ten minutes. It's not my fault their date didn't work out. Really.

--Liza