AC Had Nothing On Me!

In a celebration mocking my friend's bachelor party, which I organized being the best man, we had a cocktail gathering at a bawdy establishment in one of the last vestiges of tawdry Times Square. There in the darkness I could sip a bottle of bud amongst my friends down to about the level of the label over the course of an hour and a half without anyone noticing. Then we all jumped on the express train to Atlantic City.

Over the next two and a half hours we goofed off on the train, swapping stories and laughing like high schoolers. When I grabbed a salad and fruit cup from the dining car - rather an austere, pocket sized cabinet cum café - more hilarity ensued. My diet and veganism has been a constant source of joking, but with each friend individually confiding in me how proud they are of my accomplishments. But in a raucous crowd of guys, each person is singled out for ridicule like a Friar's Roast carousel.

The weekend in Atlantic City was a great time for all, and the bachelor was absolutely thrilled when he called it, tearily, the greatest night of his life...although the bride to be is sure to take exception to such a statement, we'll just let my pal have his moment.

Saturday morning as people dragged themselves, terrifically hung-over, to the tables at the café in the hotel each ordered some sort of giant egg dish with extra helpings of sausage or bacon to coat their stomachs. I ordered oatmeal and a banana. Each guy then said how "guilty" they felt with their order now since I was eating so healthfully. When I ordered a side of peanut butter I was informed by the waiter that they only had regular butter or margarine. *Sigh.* OK, let's try this again, "I'm not looking for a type of butter or derivative or substitute for butter, I am looking for peanut butter." "Sorry," he says, "we don't have that." Now, I get slightly annoyed and it becomes that famous scene with Jack Nicholson straight out of Five Easy Pieces. "Well," says I, "I see there is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the menu, so just forget the bread, forget the jelly, and just put a scoop of peanut butter in a little dish and all will be fine!" "I don't think they can do that." They did.

Saturday afternoon was the bachelor party golf outing and I strategically placed myself with some friends that I don't normally hang out with and who would not really notice my beer consumption - which was virtually zero! 11 men played golf, and secretly one of them did not drink. Each golf cart had a cooler filled with beer. A full 90 beers in total that were about finished by the 12th hole. Some guys could not even swing a club they were so hammered. I happily avoided detection and though the first few holes I wished I was drinking with the rest of them, by the 5th I was enjoying the empowerment! It was only when all three foursomes (one threesome) met up on a par 3 late in the day that everyone was required to shotgun a beer. I could not avoid detection so that was my one beer of the day. You have no idea how remarkable that is!

On the 18th as the sun was setting a gorgeous, but hungry, red fox came running around. It seemed rather fearless. I took it as an omen that I was just as sly for the little personal coup I pulled off that day.

I got some good ribbing throughout the weekend for my vegan-inspired eating habits, for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert, but I did get some riotous laughs with my line, "Is this whipped cream non-dairy?" I am proud to say that during the dinner I was asked, derisively, if I wanted some milk since I was merely sipping a beer and a cocktail throughout the entire meal, while others consumed as if they were going to the chair.

We ate at Bobby Flay restaurant, and I asked the waiter about a vegan meal. He sort of shrugged reiterated this was a steak house and pointed out that they can make a plate of sides. No matter, it's a one-off, a bachelor party for crying out loud! I had the swordfish which was very very good - if not a tad oily. But, by oily, I would say 95% of the general public would disagree, I am just hyper-sensitive.

What I did not avoid were late nights in the casino with the guys, and getting back to my room at 4 AM, or 5 AM was the norm.

I left the weekend exhausted, a little sick, but very happy with myself. Because even when I had a few more cocktails Saturday Night/Sunday morning it was a fraction of a fraction of my comrades' consumption and a mere whisper of my former, destructive self!

Oh, and I came home $95 dollars richer!