Bachelor Party

"You're going to a strip club, right?"  M asked as I was getting ready to go off to Toronto for my little brothers' bachelor party.  There would be no peelers, there would be none of that stuff as my future sister-in-law had, fairly, in my opinion, noted that there was a certain lack of respect in that kind of bachelor party, both for her and their relationship.  M figured her idea of a bachelor party, constructed mostly from North American movies, perhaps didn't cover the whole picture.  I was actually surprised she was cool with the idea of me going to one!
   So M dropped me off at the bus station and I rode it into Toronto for probably the first evening of shared drinking with my little brother ever.  I don't think I'd ever actually gone drinking with him.  There was poker, there was music, a lot of booze, more for some than others, and a vinyl set of boobies that made the evening.  We went to the Madison, a giant conglomeration of two big old 19th century houses cobbled together in a cozy, warren-like arrangement with patios and lounges and pool tables.  An amazing place like something out of an opium dream.  Heaps of fun, it was.  Little brother has an amazing manner about him in the bar, he's friendly and just brattish enough to give him that air of unpredictability that women find so attractive and guys love to feed off.  He had so many girls signing the vinyl get up, it was unbelievable.  At least for reserved old me.  My personal favourite was "Call me when you get a divorce..." which was followed by a number.  A real number.  Amazing.  I'm sure his fiance will love it. 
   So, the evening wound up and LB & I grabbed a couple of gluten free pizzas from Pizza Pizza & called it a night.  Good times with the LB.