Months after...

Hannah was wrong. Her brother Chucky's bachelor party was much worse than a hooker. He made me buy him booze, then sat around drinking it, showing me his porn collection, complete with commentary. He didn't even invite the other groomsmen.

I asked Hannah what she had planned for her bachelorette party and she told me that her friends had organized a "Romance Party" where "a sex-toy representative will be taking orders for dildos and butt-plugs, and there will be edible underwear taste-testing. It sounds kind of lame, but there's free food and wine, so I'm sure it will be a good time." She laughed.

After the night of her bachelorette party, I asked her how it had gone.

"Oh, it was a blast! We got really drunk and had a riot. I even ordered a few things! I never thought a sales pitch could be so much fun."

A couple weeks later, a big box arrived at our home. It was addressed to "Resident" and the return address was a P.O. box. I decided to bring it in and open it. It was actually quite heavy. As soon as I opened it, I knew it was Hannah's package from the sex-toy catalog.