Bucks Night

24th September 1994

The names in this story have been changed to protect me and the other guilty parties.

There I was, on the way to the second bucks night I had ever been to. The first one wasn't your typical bucks night, we were in a hire bus doing a pub crawl. I expected this one to be the typical degrading, boozing, testosterone overload. It had better of been, I paid $40!

It was Jason's cousin's bucks night, he's getting married in October some time. Jason had invited Carl and myself because he didn't want to go by himself.

I volunteered to drive because I was feeling very seedy from the pervious nights activities (Vroom #7, a party, then the Loft). The bucks party was located in Shelly. Me being a boy from the Northern suburbs I had to look that one up in the map book. We found the quickest route and off we went, not knowing what hell to expect.

We arrived 45 minutes fashionably late. I found the house very easily; just look for the mass of cars spewing out of one of the houses. As we got closer we could hear the sounds of Soundgarden, the footy semi-final on delay telecast (Eagles thrashed Melbourne) and the cheers of many males. We gulped, walked through a mass of Kingswoods, and entered through the half closed roller door (half open? I'm a pessimist). The party was taking place inside and mostly outside.

The first person we recognised was Barney who works at the Aberdeen. He told us that the "girls" had just arrived. We went and got a beer from the bath-tub before greeting the soon to be married man. They had chained his ankles to a weight at 6pm, it is now 8:50pm. Later on they placed hand cuffs on him. We also talked to Jason's uncle who looks remarkably like the late, great Frank Zappa. Mr Zappa told us about smoking Camel cigarettes; apparently every 1,000 one is laced with mull, or so he told us.

Jason, Carl and I had just seated ourselves when the girls popped outside. There were two of them. One was tall in her white stiletto boots, she had sandy hair, and wore a small tight pink dress with matching pink crop top. Very dashing. The other girl was small, well tanned, and wore tight shorts, and a very small singlet thing. She had a very husky voice. The boys roared.

The girls mingled with the crowd. We drank and talked amongst ourselves, hoping they wouldn't come and talk to us. I mean, what do you say to someone not wearing much, and is only there because she is being paid. Our fear became reality when the stiletto boot girl came and sat down next to Jason, Carl next to him and me opposite.

"How's it going?" she said. We gulped. I didn't know what the fuck to say, and nor did the other two. How's what going? What was I meant to say? I figured the girls were there to serve drinks, as well as just talk to people, and look "Sexy."

"Not bad," I held up my can of VB. "Although I would have preferred a Tooheys Red." She asked the other two what they would like then went to the bathtub. We drew a sigh of relief.

She came back without my Tooheys and told me there wasn't any. "Would you like another VB?" "No thanks I'll be OK," I said, holding up my VB can again. She walked off to another group of men. I got up, went to the bathtub and pulled out my Tooheys.

We went to visit the only other people we knew at the party again. They told us there was some Mull cookies, my eyes lit up. I could have one of them and still drive (don't try this at home kids). They weren't too bad, very tasty. The thing with eating anything cooked with mull is that it won't work straight away and may take some time. When it did come on it wasn't too strong but lasted for quite some time. I had eaten a "No Name" burger from Pinkies earlier on in the evening and it was hanging in my stomach, that must have sucked up the best part of the THC.

Barney estimated tops off in fifteen minutes. He was wrong, it wasn't for quite some time, about 45 minutes. When the time arrived there was more roars of male testosterone gone crazy. Every eye was fixed on the girls wobbly bits. They mingled, but never came near Jason, Carl and myself again. I don't think I could have said anything to them.

By this time most of the boys were pissed. Not many used the toilet and preferred to take advantage of being male and used the perimeter of the back yard. At any one time there would have been five people standing, looking at the back fence. I take pity on the garden.

There was some band entertainment by anyone who could play an instrument and felt like jamming in the back games room thingy. To list all the songs played would be imposable but it went alone the lines of: "Anarchy in the UK," a Violent Femmes song and other cover trash. Jason and Carl got pissed enough to have a strum when every one else was gorking at the girls.

All off time had arrived. The bucks went mad, gathering about the two girls like they were aliens; not saying much, just starring and having an occasional touch (if it went too far they were told). Blokes were crouching down so they could get the occasional "flash of gash" as they put it. The girls fluffies were almost non-existent. The little girl had a type of mo-hawk and the other girl had a short crop.

It was fucking freezing. We moved next to the fire, which had been cooking the sheep earlier on. I don't know how the girls could walk about in the nude. No matter how much I was paid I would not stand about a party in the raw, talking to a bunch of drunk pigs, but then again they wouldn't ask me.

After the money had run out the girls pissed off. It was time for the buck himself to get his usual stripper to perform indecent acts in front of him, on him, with him. The crowd gather impatiently in the lounge room. We were told the lady was not to be touched by anyone. Except the main man of course.

The music she was to choreograph to was put on. Out she came, in the usual garter belt, suspender and all that shit. Wiggling her arse up, down, left, right, in and out, she removed her gear with the help of the buck and the drooling crowd. She removed the clothes of the buck who was very stoned and pissed. No matter what she did to the buck he just couldn't get it up. Mr Happy became Mr Sloppy. She kept going, spreading her legs, putting her bum in the bucks face and her face between the bucks legs.

She got out two Raunchy sticker and put one on the bucks old feller and the other on her foofa. She got him to lie on the floor and went into the 69 position so they could simultaneously remove the stickers. She followed this up by getting out a black dildo, lubricating up her bits and inserting it. She inserted it in various positions, on the floor, on a chair, got people to but it in their mouths and moved up and down on it, acting like it felt good. Then the show was over and every one went home.

Jason, Carl and I stole some beers then jumped into my car and drove. Where we drove I don't know because I became lost. We didn't give a shit and I just drove. Jason was in the back propped between the front two seats for the entire journey home. We had the stereo up full blast, singing whatever came on. We didn't know the words, but that didn't stop us. We sang "Undone - the sweater song" by Weezer, we sang "Sabotage" by the Beastie Boys, we sang "It's a clear night" by Half Japanese, fuck we sang all the way to Mt Lawley.

When we passed Arcadia the police were out the front. I told Jason to sit back because there were filth about and I didn't want to see them. Instead he and Carl wound down the windows and shouted abuse. "Fuckin' pigs," "Aahhhhh," and other shit. We had to stop at the lights. A girl came up to the car, I didn't know what she wanted, probably a lift. The lights went green and I got the fuck out of there.

We went back to Carl's. It was 1:30am. Carl's girlfriend Carol was still up. We watched Kylie Mingoue on Rage and before you knew it Jason and Carl were asleep. I said goodbye to Carol and drove home to my bed.

If I ever get married (unforeseeable) I will have a bucks night. Mine will be a pub crawl, the only girls will be the ones you meet at the pubs who aren't paid to be there.

Bucks nights are a degrading, boozing, testosterone overload, but hey, you already knew that.

By Norman L. Bronkozwsk