I *loathe* bachelorette parties.  Loathe.  If I owned a bar, the minute I saw a tiara, veil, or penis-shaped anything I would tell them to get the hell out.  It's always the most annoying group of girls too: half of them are the quiet stay at home types that can't hold their liquor and thus become anything but quiet, and the other half are the single "good time" friends that can typically be found disseminating STDs at Rumors.   Invariably, the only cute one is the bride to be.  But frankly, no girl looks cute sipping a drink through a penis straw.  It's always about penises and making guys take off their boxers.  I don't get the logic there: my friend is getting married, so let's go out and act like classless sluts?  Is that it?  Christ, go to a strip club - that's what they're for.  There's no need to ruin everyone else's night at the bar.  And don't get me started on the drinks.  No, the local dive bar doesn't have whipped cream for the blowjob shots that you ordered.  Surprised?  Yeah, order a martini, that will go well with the penis-shaped cookie that you're noshing on. 

So... I guess you now know how my Saturday night went.  One of the girls tried to initiate conversation with me when she came up to the bar to get drinks.  Her opening line?  "You look depressed."  I was, in fact, not depressed, and I'm pretty sure I looked completely normal.  This is a horrible, horrible opening line - I don't know what kind of response she expected, or where she thought the conversation could go from there.  Luckily, I had just paid my tab so I was able to walk away without a substantive response.  But seriously, ladies, just because a guy is sitting at the bar and not lavishing attention on your little whore party doesn't mean he's depressed.  And if he is, maybe it's because of you.