Pursey Galore and the VIP Treatment

Kristin, from Taming Insanity, booked Pursey Galore to help her celebrate her sister’s last days of single woman-hood. And, although this is not the story I heard about, there is no doubt that it COULD have happened this way.

“I look fat!”

“You’re a bride. You do NOT look fat.”

“My hair’s a wreck!”

“If you’re like this for your bachelorette party, what are you going to be like on The Day?” The capital letters were clear in Kristin’s words.

Her sister took a deep breath. “I’m only single for a few short more days. I’m not ready to look like a wife yet.”

Kristin looked her gorgeous sister up and down. “You will be an inspiration to wives everywhere, now get your purse.”

Kristin glanced at herself in the mirror. She was a wife. She was a mom. But damnit, she was going to be hot stuff tonight. Hotter than normal, that is.

She glanced in her closet for a bag, and something winked at her from the shelf. Something sparkly. Something…trashy.

Should she?

It was a party. She damned well should.

‘Cause nothing sets off a sexy dress like zebra-striped sequins.

The bride-to-be snorted out loud when she saw the bag, but hopped into the car without snide comment.

At the first bar, a round of free drinks showed up for the group of women. Kristin and her sister looked around for their benefactor, but the server didn’t know where the drinks had come from and no one was looking their way. The shrugged, toasted their mystery patron, and drank every drop down.

At the second bar, the doorman waived the cover charge. The women, wallets half-open, looked at each other, then sauntered into the room like VIP’s. It might have been sauntering. It might have been instability on heels due to inebriation. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.

At the final bar, the group of now perpetually giggling and moderately staggering women found themselves escorted past the other waiting patrons, and walked to table where a bottle of champagne met them.

“Ok, what’s going on?” Asked one of the other bridesmaids. “Did the groom set this all up for you?”

Kristin’s sister shook her head. “No, I didn’t tell him where we were going. He can’t have.”

The women looked at each other across the table, perplexed. Where was all this attention coming from?

Their server leaned in and cleared some glasses. “It’s the purse,” he said.

All eyes turned to Kristin and her tawdry, tacky bag.

That?” asked six voices in unison.

The server nodded, placing the champagne flutes gently on the bussing tray.

“If you have the guts to flash that sort of bling, people will notice.” He stood up. “Another round, ladies?”

Five heads turned to Kristin, who had just turned into the leader of the pack.

“I think the correct answer to that is, ‘Hell yes.’”

The server nodded and stepped back, bearing away the evidence of round one.

Kristin settled back against the plush couch and crossed her legs theatrically. She glanced at her sister. “You mocked.”

The bride-to-be nodded, clearly clamping down hard on some additional snorting.

“Mock no more, foolish girl.”

“Never again,” her sister squeaked.

Kristin stretched backwards, her superior accessorizing skills had clearly lifted her above the other, less bold, less daring, clearly more mundane women. She reached behind her to move the bag into a safer place next to her on the couch, overbalanced, and fell on her arse onto the club floor, squawking loudly.

A roomful of bar patrons turned her way.

Her sister leaned over and surveyed Kristin’s indelicate sprawl.

“I take it back. I’m going to mock you again.

Kristin sighed and got her butt up from the floor.

Such a sweet, but short-lived, victory.


4 Comments to “Pursey Galore and the VIP Treatment”

  1. That bottom photo makes the whole post. Seriously.

  2. Perfect! Of course the bling should warrant free drinks and VIP treatment. It’s only fitting!

  3. I cannot believe I let that photo go on the internet.

    I blame the free drinks.

  4. Yep, that last photo rocks…you better have it framed somewhere, too!

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