Friday, July 22, 2005
The Bacardi Party
I don't have a lousy experience every time I step out of the house, as this little anecdote will prove. I'm going back to June of 2oo2 for this story, but I swear I have had a few good times since then.

As an employee of one of the highest volume liquor stores in North America, I was privy to liquor industry launch parties, meaning when a company would introduce a new product, they would launch it by renting a venue, inviting liquor store and restaurant employees, hiring scantily-clad women to serve up free booze, and best of all, hiring even more scantily-clad women to serve up even more free booze.

All of these events were fun, but the last one I went to before I left town was the best. Bacardi was unveiling a new rum, something called Cyclon, and had rented out a bar/concert venue called Headliners. Tickets were scarce, but my friend Boe (yeah, that's his name) managed to snag a few. Boe called me that afternoon while I was still at work and said his Uncle Bill would be our Designated Driver so we could get as shit-ass drunk as we wanted. I was very pleased by this turn of events.

When we arrived at the venue, we were greeted by a bevy of Bacardi Girls, so-called ambassadors for the Bacardi brand. Let me tell you, they put the "ass" in ambassador. They were wearing tight pleather bikini tops and short-shorts, strutting around with bottles of Cyclon and pouring shots down the guests' gullets. This company knew about hospitality.

I didn't particularly like Bacardi Cyclon, but that didn't keep me from drinking enough of it to make my liver fire-off a nasty letter to my brain. How could I turn down the Bacardi Girls? Looking back, I think they picked me out of the crowd to try to kill, but at the time I just enjoyed the attention. All of that drinking led to the highlight of the evening, when the Bacardi Girls started dancing on top of the bar, pouring more shots down the throats of drunk, horny service industry schlubs. Then came the moment that turned this modest shindig into an event that probably gave Caligula an afterlife hard-on. Five gallon buckets of the swillish booze du jour were brought out and the Bacardi Girls, one by one, removed the black shorts they were wearing (they were wearing panties underneath), dipped said shorts into the vats of rum, and wrung them out into the open mouths of the assembled revilers. I couldn't believe they were doing that. I couldn't believe I was a witness to such debauchery. I couldn't believe how salty that fucking rum tasted.

Boe, always the casual observer, sat at our table and took in the scene with wide-eyed wonder. As I staggered back to the table, he was shaking his head forlornly. At first I thought he was pissed at me, until he told me to look to my right. There he was, Uncle Bill, our designated driver, stumbling in our general direction, sloshed to his soul, wearing a pair of rum-soaked shorts on his head.

"Finish my drink," Boe said. "I'll have to drive home."

The party was almost over but we now had a dilemma. Boe hadn't drank nearly as much as our defrocked designated driver Uncle Bill, but he did have a few and needed a little time to get completely sober. Luckily, a sweet Bacardi Girl brought in all the way from South Carolina told us about the afterparty at a nearby bar. We went, Boe drank water, I switched to bourbon, Uncle Bill passed out, and the Bacardi Girls, free of their corporate shackles, took their tops off for a minute or two.

All was well with the world until I got home and realized I had to be at work in three and a half hours.


13 Comments:

Blogger Egan said...

[snaps fingers and jostles Todd] "wake up buddy... your alarm is going off. Time for work man! You were talking in your sleep and saying something about Cyclon"

Blogger yournamehere said...

I swear it happened, Egan. And why are you in my bedroom?

Blogger MacManus said...

Sensational...i think the best nights are the ones that just happen...the nights you plan 2 weeks out usually suck arse!

Blogger AMS said...

OOOooohhhh now where can I find me one of those?

Blogger MsHellion said...

Is that the party where you got that free Bacardi Limon glass? That thing is still at my house. It makes a stellar rolling pin for dumplings. =)

Blogger Ruben said...

My goodness! Daisy dukes dunked in booze.

Blogger Cincysundevil said...

WOW! Thank God you were in Vegas with hot girls when all of that happened. I went out last night with my cousin who was on a business trip in Cincinnati. We hit a bar and I just realized that if 80% of the women there would've dipped their undies in booze, it would've been horrible. Instead of hot little girls with underwear the size of an eyepatch, it would've been more like a pillowcase.

Blogger Blonde said...

I guess every family has a crazy drunken Uncle Bill.

Anything goes in Vegas. Every night should be like that one for you.

If I were there, I would have covered my naked body in Cyclon and climbed you like a tree. then we could lick it off of each other.

Have a great weekend ;)

Blogger yournamehere said...

The crazy part of it is Headliners is in good ol' Louisville, Ky. I didn't move to Vegas until October of 2oo2.

I'm sure there are parties like that in Vegas all the time, I just can't score an invite to one.

Ms. Hellion, I got the Limon glass at a party at Have a Nice Day where the Bacardi Girls were wearing naughty nurses outfits.

Blonde, well, the party would have been much better with you in attendance.

Cincy, the bar scene in Cincinnati sucks. I used to talk to girls all the time who'd drive from there to Louisville to get their drunk on.

Blogger Melliferous Pants said...

Goodness, posting about salty fucking rum sure shuts the girls up.

Blogger katarina said...

That's a kick-ass story!
I'm having trouble getting past all this talk about "Boe" and the "Daisy Dukes". Does this make you "Luke"? I don't remember there being an Uncle Bill in the tv show. Is he a new character in the movie?

Blogger Egan said...

Did we play a game of crackers the night before?

Blogger Kristine said...

OOohhhhh (groaning) I am one of those girls. Last time they made us wear snakes. Fortunately I was snake free, but that just qualified me as the honorary body shot girl.

It's so much harder to get out than to get in.

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