An unexpected invitation to a “Playboy Party” Kandy Kruise (a cross between mansion party and Vegas nightclub on steroids) came my way from a fellow blogger, reader & bucket lister, Megsy Ellis. I had always wanted to meet an online acquaintance, especially one who is as obsessed as me with ticking items off her life list.
Throw in a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of attending a pseudo Playboy party and how could I possibly say “no”?
She had been invited to this sexy event and was allowed to bring one “female” guest. Apparently, parties of this sort need to control the male to female ratio, heavy on the chick side. Even though I had never even spoken to Meg and my breasts were no where near the Double Ds, I accepted. The anxiety then set in and here’s 4 photo reasons why:
I don’t own a sexy sailor suit, my abs are not 6-packs and I have not mastered the seductive, tilted head photo op stance.
I do not have a pair of extra-large sunglasses, belly piercing or an extra-small bikini.
I will not wear lingerie in public, barely even in private.
I have NO experience dancing with a pole, wings or furry boots. Maybe this Playboy party is not a good idea.
The White Party on the Kandy Kruise
I spent a week trying to find a white outfit for the Kandy Kruise all white party, which is actually a difficult task in September. The whole no-white-after Labor Day rule didn’t play in my favor. There was no HOT white attire to be found at any of my go-to shops. So, I resorted to a stripperesque boutique that really didn’t care what month it was.
This shop, which shall remain nameless to protect the innocent (myself), had plenty of options for the White Party. But I settled on a short little number, that actually left me more clothed than 90% of the other partiers in attendance.
This bikini wearer must not have had such a hard time shopping as me. Neither did the gentlemen who opted for simply wearing the ships white robe.
Before heading down to the main white party deck, I ogled the stage from the upper tier.
I have been to a few clubs in my day. Several to be more accurate. But, nothing compared to this stage complete with jumbo screen, Go-Go dancers and host Cort McCown waiting on the sidelines for a welcome introduction.
I was ready to venture downstairs to join the already in-progress white party. Not more than ten steps later I was paralyzed by watching the sexy winged dancers. Half of me was struck by jealous amazement and half was wondering why I hadn’t packed my wings and furry boots.
The white party goers, all decked out in their white threads, were in full force. The music was pumping, drinks flowing and everyone was busting a move (did that sentence just show my age?). The disco balls drinks were all the rage, not only because they were cool, but they were strong!
Who’s the girl drinking red wine at an all White Party? I don’t do disco balls.
I tried to party into the wee hours of the morning, but only made it until 2. That’s when the dancing started to get crazy and this girl was terrified of spilling wine on the wrong person. Good-night.
On the flip side, the potential new experience count was growing:
1. Porting in Ensenada, Mexico
2. Attending a party put on by Karma Foundation, the same people that produce the Playboy Mansion parties.
3. Meeting a fellow bucket lister, blogger and reader
4. Vacationing with a Stranger
5. Attending an all “White Party”
6. Gawking at the Red Light District lingerie party
7. Eating cactus or possibly even a Tequila worm
8. Feeding a tiger at the port
9. Seeing La Bufadora, one of the only 3 blow holes in the world
New adventures always trumps anxiety.