This Valentine’s Day, I happen to be a single pringle; we’re going to ignore the fact that I’ve set up camp in that status for every Valentine’s Day of my existence. So, I decided to do what any guy in a country song does: I headed to the bar. Don’t worry I wasn’t planning on drinking myself in a tizzy- I’m only 20, and while water intoxication is a real thing, it didn’t really sound like my cup of tea. I had other plans for the night- some that involved six of the most eligible bachelors in Tallahassee. I guess I should explain before I get arrested for kidnapping- well bartendernapping. Township was putting on their annual Boyfriend Bartender Auction, complete with full envelopes of monopoly-money. The winner gets to share a free half-liter beer cocktail with their bartender.
It started with a quick introduction, a glimpse at an innocent night that was not going to follow. Then it was the first contestant’s chance to win our hearts. He walked on stage. For a second, he left us wondering. Was he going to dance? Sing? Maybe strike a pose? No, something far more interesting. He pulled out a beer can, punch a hole and began shot-gunning as the MC read of all his redeeming qualities. After successfully finishing the beer and looking like he peed himself, he did a little boogie around the floor. Some might say dance, but I think boogie is the right word to describe the slight shaking of the fist and subtle hula-hoop motion. “Ladies and Gentlemen“, if his dance moves didn’t when you over, his shoe size, 11-wide, would, or so the MC promised. The bidding began at $500 and quickly worked its way up to $3000.
I saw the next bartender before he got on stage. With American flag pants and a bandanna wrapped around his head, he was hard to miss- so was the whipped cream bottle that loomed ominously close to the stage. “The next contestant is 69 years old”. There was a blur of an American flag, a lot of cheering and a bottle of wine that was finished in .2 seconds. “His hobbies include naked twister”. With that, his shirt was on the floor and a girl was being brought up stage. As my friend so nicely pointed out, 69-year-olds don’t have abs like that. He bent down next to her and picked up the whip cream bottle. My friends and I passed weary glances then turned our heads back to the stage. The girl was now in a chair, the whipped cream bottle hanging above her tilted head. After both got their fair share of whip cream, the bidding began.
“We have $2000, does anyone have-”
“$1900!”, two girls in the corner yelled, alcohol making their eyes only slightly droopy.
“Ma’am, we’re at $2000.” Despite their good-intentioned $1900, the bid continued to grow far from their budget reaching a whopping $10,000.
“Bringing Sexy Back” blared throughout the speakers and the next bartender took the stage, making his way right for the chair and dancing around it. “His hobbies enjoy skinny dipping in Wescott”. Much like before, a girl was brought up on stage, another one trailing behind her. My friends and I had moved past weary glances, there was no time to take your eyes off the stage. So instead, we settled for cheering with the rest of the crowd. He ripped his shirt off and one girl began icing his abs with whipped cream, the other licking them off. The bidding had quickly surpassed the previous $10,000. But the girls were still determined, and this time they had 100 more dollars.
“$2000, we have $2000!”
Seconds later, he sold for $21,000.
I wish I could say the next guy walked up gracefully on stage- or even stumbled up drunkenly. What really happened, took place in slow-motion. With the floors still slick with shot-gunned beer and whipped cream, the unknowing contestant approached the stage. He had spent all night pumping himself up for the big debut (he was the halftime show). With a deep sigh of relief, he had made it up the stairs, the hardest part. Now it was just time to win over the crowd. He stepped on the stage, his shoe catching on the sticky tile sending his feet over his head, but now wasn’t the time to cry over a split drink. He popped back up and started to dance. The sky rained in colors as monopoly money flooded down on him. The next guy was only slightly more graceful as he too almost slipped. With some dance moves and a show of ripping open his shirt, he sold for $22,000.
It was time for the grand finale- and boys were we not prepared. Sure, it had been done before- lap dances, raining money, the works, but not like this. The crowd went wild as he approached the stage. Some signature hip thrusts, and he was ready for the big lap dance. The girl in the chair didn’t stand a chance. With a couple hip thrusts for good measure and conjuring the strength of the hulk, he lifted the chair off the ground. By the end of the show, his jeans were overflowing with money, whipped cream covered girl’s hair and the crowd went crazy. The bidding topped way over 100,000, ultimately ending in a dance battle between two girls. I’ll spare you the details, but there was a lot of twerking and other moves you might find at the Strip. He picked the winner up, twirling her in the air, monopoly money raining down.
Whether you spent your Valentine’s day bidding on the local bartenders, wrapped up in bed with your dog or with your S.O., I hope it was everything you deserve.
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