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July 11th, 2010 
Ashley I didn’t know quite what to expect for Andrea’s Bachelorette Party. I knew it would be a good time because we had 12 awesome, low-drama, hot girls in one of the most fun destinations in the country: South Beach. But, I could never have anticipated the amazingness level that would be achieved during those 3.5 short days in the city of sexy. Let me begin.
I took an earlier flight on Thursday morning than the rest of the Atlanta girls, so I arrived in MIA an hour before them. Upon retrieving my bag (note: I was the ONLY girl in the group that checked a bag) I proceeded straight to the airport Chili’s (all class, all the time), downed two vodka sodas, contemplated ordering nachos before realizing I would be in a bikini in T-minus one hour, and updated my Facebook status accordingly before meeting up with them. I was proud to see that some of the girls had been drinking heavily on the flight, but I was already aware that would happen per Fran’s (the crazy married friend) email earlier that week:
Yes, that’s how Fran signs every email. And, yes, she was totally correct about the mini bottles. Kinda makes you look forward to your next flight, doesn’t it?
We hopped in a cab and headed to our hotel, The Gansevoort – one of the newest, biggest and swankiest hotels in SoBe. And, being the classy girls that we are, we totally know how to act in a place like that.
Is this really a bachelorette party or a an 8-year-old’s birthday party? You be the judge.
We headed up to the rooftop pool (appropriately named “Plunge”) and while we took in the lavish, tropical surroundings in the massive space (26,000 square feet to be exact) overlooking the ocean, we realized we were basically the only people there. Contrary to popular belief, people in South Beach do more than just work on their tans by day and hit the clubs at night – they DO have to work at noon on a Thursday. Our hot little cocktail waitress convinced us to order pitchers of Pink Elephants (a delicious concoction of strawberries, champagne, vodka and who knows what else) and while we would later find out they were $65 a pitcher (welcome to South Beach, ladies), we enjoyed every last drop before we got the bill. We met Don (“The Don”), the manager of the Gansevoort and had a sneaking suspicion he would be a great resource for us that week. We were right.
It was truly a successful pool session.
When the signature Miami afternoon shower rained us out, we hit up the other pool bar (under an awning of course) on the 3rd floor for some snacks and more beverages, where we flirted with our bartender and he informed us of the 2-for-1 happy hour we were partaking in. Was he just flirting with us? Is there REALLY a 2-for-1 drink deal at one of the hottest hotels in SoBe? Who knows. And who cares.
We got ready for the night (cue soundtrack: “All I Do is Win”, “Alejandro” and “Break Your Heart”), then hopped in a cab to get to to dinner. Note: cabbing it in SoBe is like a dream come true for us Atlantans who get screwed by the insane cab prices (AND rude drivers) every time we go out. I don’t think we had a cab ride more than $8 the whole time we were there….and then we got to split that by 4 or 5 girls. You do the math. We dined at Emeril’s in the Loew’s Hotel (thanks to NYC Meghan for the hook-up) and made a decision over our banana cream pie to keep the night “low-key” as the next 2 nights were going to get crazy. We headed back to the hotel and went up to Plunge for “one drink.”
Yeah, right.
Manager #2 (not “The Don”) came over to our table and told us he was sending over a bottle of vodka and bottle service. I channeled my inner douchebag and updated my Facebook status to mention the manager sending over a bottle of Goose. Turns out, it wasn’t Goose. Womp, Womp. But, we weren’t complaining, and as the bottle started to go down and the DJ started his set, things turned from “low-key” to, well, normal.
Clearly, the DJ was playing “All I Do Is Win” when this picture was taken. “And they hands go up, and they stay therrrre!” It was one of theme songs of the weekend.
When our OTHER theme came song – “OMG” by Usher – I got a little excited and starting dancing without regard for my surroundings. Shocker. I was standing behind a chair at our table, started to get low, got halfway down, and then….
BOOM.
I hit the floor….
…and was sitting in a puddle (rain, vodka, who knows). I started laughing so hard I couldn’t get up. Then, before I knew it, two men grabbed me under my armpits and pulled me up, someone rushed over to mop up the puddle and the girls frantically tried to find and turn on my FLIP cam to at least get some coverage of the aftermath. I just want to clarify that this wasn’t in some secluded corner. It was right in the middle of a crowd. The DJ even said to Fran: “your girl in pink just fell.”
The worst part: I was trying to dance all sexy when this happened. Lesson. Learned. I continued to dance after that, but I didn’t dare get low again…until the next night.
The party was JUST beginning.
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GIRL! I was just in SoBe for a Bachelorette party 2 weekends ago. It went a little like this: http://radiopotato.com/discover/tanning-butler-fact-or-fable/
I wonder if we were at the same places. We rocked the Gansevoort, too.