This Post Raises An Intriguiging Question: Whatever Happened To Adrian Zmed?

I’d almost forgotten what it was like to serve a bachelorette party, post-party.


One whiff of stale alcohol, cheap perfume, sticky-sweet body odor, body spray and regret refreshed my memory instantly. Incidentally, my memory was the only thing that was refreshed in that room. Cultural convention – and Ton Hanks’ early work –  tells us that males are the master of the party meant to signify the end of one’s existence as a single entity, but trust me, the ladies are every bit as adept as their penis-wielding counterparts when it comes to rockin’ a hotel room bachelor party.

These chicks were spittin, cursin’, coughin’, belchin’ and grabbing their crotcheral areas with gusto unmatched by any male I’ve encountered in seventeen years. But as they say,  the devil is in the details. Check out this inventory of their luggage/belongings/junk:

  • Fifteen opened but unfinished bottles and boxes of various brands of ale, mineral spirits, wine and battery acid.
  • Eight cans of ozone devastating hair spray.
  • Various bachelorette signs and ribbons.
  • Several inflatable male members.
  • A funnel with a plastic penis attached to the spout. (Feel free to shudder. I did.)
  • Two vibrating duffel bags.
  • Six open plastic bags filled to capacity with handcuffs, a whip, fuzzy blindfolds and everything one would need to film a Vivid Video production of Where The Boys Aren’t #20. (To be clear, I’m entirely uncertain of the numbering of that particular franchise; it’s been some time since I’ve had to avail myself of such self-pleasuring aids.)
  • One clear plastic bag filled with folded panties. (No, I have no context for you; I merely chronicle these events.)

And finally,

  • The largest motorized dildo I’ve ever seen. (Seriously, this thing should have come with a waiver, a gallon of ointment, a Bible with which to pray for the safety of your vagina…  and defibrillator paddles.)
  • And no tip.

After a summer of inactivity it was nice to challenge myself with the task of loading all this junk plus actual luggage onto a cart, but I handled the task like a hospitality trooper. As for not receiving a gratuity, I’m still rockin’ a Zen-like buzz from my time off so I wasn’t even phased. This time.

See you in the lobby, kids…


About The Hook

Husband. Father. Bellman. Author of The Bellman Chronicles. Reader of comic books and observer and chronicler of the human condition. And to my wife's eternal dismay, a mere mortal and non-vampire. I'm often told I look like your uncle, cousin, etc. If I wore a hat, I'd hang it on a hat rack in my home in Niagara Falls, Canada. You can call me The Hook, everyone else does.
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22 Responses to This Post Raises An Intriguiging Question: Whatever Happened To Adrian Zmed?

  1. Paul says:

    Ahh, the fairer sex unveiled. They are a dangerous lot when left unattended in groups. The cheap bastards not leaving a tip. Sounds like welcome back Hook party if you ask me. Ha! Great Post!

  2. Tsk. Tsk. 😮
    Not you, hook. Dem ladies…

  3. katecrimmins says:

    Now you’re really back!

  4. List of X says:

    I suspect that the bachelorettes spent all of their cash on batteries to keep that motor running.

  5. 1jaded1 says:

    I was laughing heartily until the last part. No tip? Seriously ladies,

  6. NotAPunkRocker says:

    Holy hell, I can’t even think of an appropriate joke for any of that.

    Sorry that they didn’t leave a tip though. Idiots.

  7. No tip?! Seriously? That’s just rude. Welcome back to work! How does it feel?

    The movie Bridesmaids has changed bachelorette parties the way Animal House changed frat parties. They were both, for better or worse, cultural landmarks that altered behaviors.

  8. Britt says:

    “crotcheral areas”

  9. Women have always been raunchier than men. We just hide it better. No excuse for not tipping, though. Just rude.

  10. shimoniac says:

    Thanks, Hook. Now you’ve got me giggling for the next couple of hours. Welcome back.

  11. Michael says:

    When I was reading the list, I couldn’t help thinking of the Twelve Days of Christmas. “And a partridge in a pear tree!”

  12. granny1947 says:

    And, I DO “shudder” 🙂

  13. Kevin says:

    Sounds like an average trip for the girls bible study group my wife belongs to!

  14. curvyroads says:

    Ugh. Women can be pigs. Sorry they were rude pigs and didn’t tip, though. Despicable.

  15. I was at a an actual bachelorette party last weekend and uhm…..yeah, we didn’t have THAT stuff!! OMG!! We did have alcohol…and lots of it, but none of that other crap. Those girls are sick! I have a pretty freaky imagination and even >strong>I can’t come up with what they did with some of that stuff!! EW! infinity! :-/

  16. How are you not a world-wide known star yet? OMG, crotcheral areas… that’s where some production heads must be. Wait. Wrong side. Never mind.

  17. “No, I have no context for you; I merely chronicle these events.” WIth a completely straight face – that’s what we love about you! (Glad the Zen-like buzz is keeping you going, but do wish a little more attention would be paid in coin! Baby’s bound to need a new pair of shoes)

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