As you probably know by now Tahoe is one of my most favorite places to visit and play. Personally I’m a bigger fan of the northern shore verses the southern, however, when it came to my friend Sharon’s bachelorette party, the casino strip was a must for “Sharon Says Shalom to Singledom!”

Christie did 99% of the leg work on the planning, but we decided to take care of the final details together a couple days prior to our weekend getaway. So on Wednesday morning we left behind the beautiful city of San Francisco and headed out east to Tahoe.

My family had graciously allowed us to stay at their place on the north shore Wednesday and Thursday night before we headed to our rental house on Friday for the bachelorette. We had a full day of family visits and errands to do before we could make the drive up highway 80. After our last stop at Costco we rejiggered the beetle and finally hit the road for what we thought was going to be a couple days of rest and relaxation.

We arrived at the house around 7pm, where we were (initially) determined for a quiet night in. As we unpacked the car and settled into our bedroom, however, our bellies were aching and our mouths thirsty for a treat. Instead of laying low, we headed to my favorite place, Garwoods, to satiate our needs. We arrived around 9:15pm and were greeted by the restaurant manager “El Jefe” and seated at the bar. There were only four other people in the entire restaurant when we arrived and within thirty minutes everyone was gone but us, the bartender, “Mickey” and El Jefe.

Christie and I ordered a couple appa-teasers and two wet woodys. After the first I offered to drive us home and cut myself off. The bartender Mickey had a different plan.

After our first drink he insisted it was safer for us to take a taxi home and provided us a round on the house. Several drinks later and now it’s around 11:30pm and we requested a cab number for the ride home. After a fake taxi number or two, El Jefe grabbed the phone and told his buddy (yes, he knew the driver) that he could instead plan on picking us up around 3am at stateline’s Crystal Bay Club.

So now Christie and I are asking ourselves, what the duck just happened?!? As we’re finishing our last woody, closing down the bar, locking the back door and heading into El Jefe’s car en route to Nevada, I realize this is going to make an amazing blog! (This is us in the back of El Jefe’s car and our favorite drink, the wet woody.)

So we arrive at the CBC (the local’s term for Crystal Bay Club) and we instantly realize we are THE best looking people there. Although visibly intoxicated I’m sure, we are not wearing flannel, are not puking in the bathroom sink, are not wearing a beanie and are NOT covered in tattoos. Despite not fitting the mold, the locals seem to love us. They’re buying us drinks, taking photos, exchanging numbers, laughing and all around enjoying our company.

It’s now probably close to 3am and Christie and I decide it’s best we get our butts home to address the big day ahead of us prepping for Sharon’s party. So we walk outside, call back the cab we had previously contacted and wait patiently for our ride home. While shivering in the cold, out walks El Jefe, Mickey and their new friend “Spencer.” They urge us, instead, to go back to their place and hit up the hawt tub. Well since Christie and I have on our bestest thinking caps, we too agreed this was a great idea.

So off we go back to California to their place in Tahoe Vista. What an evening…Let’s just say the next morning we woke up a bit confused and not so well rested, but I’m pretty sure I won’t have to pay for my  next round at Garwoods. We missed the opportunity to say goodbye to Mickey and El Jefe, as they had to open up the restaurant that morning, but we had Spencer give us a ride back to our car. We then stopped at the old Post Office for a little brunch and headed back to our house where we promptly changed into PJs and slept until 5pm.

When we woke up that evening we realized Christie had accidentally taken Spencer’s wallet in her handbag (swear it wasn’t on purpose), which meant we would have to meet up again to return it. (Oh and did I mention Spencer told us that was his name, but in reality it was “Glen Louis.” Ew.)

So that night we headed to Bridgetender for some grub and made friends with the bartender. She introduced us to a rather roudy bachelor party crowd sitting at a nearby table. We ended up hanging out with them for a while there, and then headed to Fat Cat Cafe for a little karaoke and cocktails. It was at Fat Cat that we officially realized North Shore is a man mecca filled with all sorts of colorful characters. They were on us like white on snow.

Around 2am we opted out of the late night party at a stranger’s house and headed back to my family’s humble abode, cuddled up on the couch for a late night movie and  engaged in some much needed shut eye. After all, the bachelorette party hadn’t even started…