Bachelor Party
7 June, 2010
Author: Mark Spencer
It was my bachelor party,
And my friends took me out.
I really should have wondered what
Their smiles were all about.
They worked with me at L.A.X.
We were security.
But never once did I recall
Them ever smile at me.
And that fact should have tipped me off,
That something wasn’t right.
But I was blinded by the hope,
Of having fun that night.
So as I slipped into the fog,
Of alcoholic gloom,
My “friends” were working on a plan,
To send me to my doom.
They put me on a midnight flight,
And added to my woes,
By wrapping me in a blanket,
And stripping off my clothes.
I woke up when the plane touched down,
At Chicago’s O’Hare.
At first, I didn’t understand,
How I had gotten there.
When I looked under the blanket,
I realized my plight.
My “friends” had stripped me to the skin,
And stuck me on that flight!
There I was with just a blanket,
No clothes and no I.D.
I’d be toast if I got caught by
Airport security.
So I tried to sneak off the plane,
When someone yelled “Hey Mac!
That blanket there belongs to us,
And we would like it back!”
Then they chased me through the airport,
But I gave them the slip.
It’s this kind of embarrassment,
That I preferred to skip!
But I could not avoid my fate,
Nor remain hidden long.
When I reached the escalator,
I knew something was wrong.
My blanket snagged between the steps,
And much to my chagrin,
The escalator stripped me bare,
And sucked my blanket in.
I heard some women start to scream,
At what she did behold.
There are some things I can’t control,
Whenever I get cold.
I was arrested then and there,
And they hauled me away.
And with the phone call they gave me,
I called my fiancée.
So she wired me some money
And faxed them my I.D.
Then they laughed as they released me
Into her custody.
We married after my return,
A wedding on the beach,
Of a small deserted island,
Remote, and out of reach.
We celebrated all night long,
Drinking tropical blends.
And then, when everyone was drunk,
We shipwrecked all my “friends.”
I left a note to let them know,
That they’d be rescued soon.
“We’ll tell the Coast Guard where you are…
After our honeymoon.”
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Comments on this poem/writing:
Wess (66.158.178.5) -- Tuesday, June 8 2010, 05:11 am Ok, that was funny. With friends like that, who needs enemies? Ha ha! |
Luke Mudge (216.162.18.225) -- Friday, June 11 2010, 01:19 pm I loved it, haha sounds like something i'd do.. nice read |
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