14 Bachelor Party Games For Engaged Octogenarians


I’m a 32-year-old bachelor. Never married. Don’t get me wrong, I want to get married. But not until I get some stuff out of my system, including most of my life and money. When I consider marriage, I imagine it will occur when I’m older, much older. I’m thinking early 80s. And while my girlfriend raises practical questions, such as how active I could be with an infant and whether my semen’s shelf-life could even extend out to that point, my main reservation centers on the bachelor party. Let’s be honest, bachelor parties grow progressively lamer with passing decades (the 20s necessitate Vegas and an avid transvestite; the 30s focus on hiking, camping, or some other activity that falsely announces manhood; and the 40s entail dim sum and a financial planner). At this rate of decline, my bachelor party will consist of a nurse squirting a dollop of vanilla frosting into my feeding tube. But I want more, considering I waited eight decades for this. Thus, like signing a power of attorney, I hereby authorize my best man (i.e., whoever is still alive), to implement the following 14 games at my bachelor party:

1. We partner up and swap Velcro orthotics. Then try walking. This will be the geriatric equivalent of spinning around a baseball bat.

2. Go to the store and pick out a nice piece of fish. Maybe a flaky yet firm white fish.

3. Shop for coffins. Then have a stripper jump out of one. And how will this be a surprise if I plan the stripper? I’m in my 80s! I probably already forgot why I’m here.

4. Call my fiancée. Put her on speaker phone. We’re going to need a nap.

5. Wear blood pressure cuffs and talk about “kids today.” Whosever systolic levels rise most, wins a free refill of antihypertensives.

6. Without looking down, each of us tries to remember if we’re wearing suspenders or a belt.

7. Pour cups of grape juice. Then talk about how good the post office used to be. By the time the stories are done, we’ll have wine.

8. Then pour a little wine into our urinary catheters and let the party begin.

9. Once the genitally-administered wine takes effect, get tattoos of our DNR status.

10. Crush our daily medications into our meals. Then switch meals. Like the song, we’ll be popping (pill) bottles in the (nursing home) club (room)!

11. Hold an M&M eating competition. Instead of seeing who can eat the most, at this age, we’ll see whose teeth are too soft to crack an M&M.

12. Stand close together in a group. If two people’s metal implants magnetically attract, you two will spend the rest of the night together (unless it’s Nick and Scott, who have bad blood over an unevenly split Auntie Anne’s cinnamon pretzel, though this article should give them 50 years to try to reconcile).

13. Play Jenga using our fingers instead of wooden blocks. Makes cleanup much easier.

14. Call my fiancée again and tell her that I switched my insurance policy’s beneficiary from her to a carpentry school, where I’ll endow a chair, and that I died after winning finger-Jenga. If she’s more upset over the bequeathal than my death, the wedding’s off. My fifty-year suspicion that she’s marrying for money has been vindicated. Then see if that stripper is still around and single, I’ll need to move quickly if I plan to have another bachelor party in my 90s.