There I was, at a bachelor party for a friend due to be married in a few days time.
The bride had made one stipulation: the party was not to be on the night before the nuptials. Fair enough, I thought. Why do they always accuse me before things happen?
As I sat at the bar with beer in hand, the wedding more than a few days away, I noticed something odd on of the pole dancers.
It looked like some thing was sticking out of her bikini bottom.
A tag? But it was in the front, along the bikini line. In the dim light, I couldn't be sure unless I stood at the stage she danced on, so I went for a look. It turned out to be a tattoo... Something green. To me it looked like a snakes tail, but I couldn't be sure. Pointing this out to a buddy next to me, he gave me his opinion.
“Dude, it's a vine.” He pronounced. “She has some kind of ivy tattooed to her hoo-ha.”
It didn't quite look like that to me. Shouldn't it then have leaves or something? It had to be a snake. We went back and forth on this with no clear winner on what it was, snake or vine.
“Whoever is wrong buys the winner a beer.” It was the standard guy bet. Seeing no way to resolve this by observation, I went up and asked.
Holding a five dollar bill up, I got her attention.
She must get this question a lot, so I didn't need to explain it too much. “My bud says it's a vine, I say it's a snake. So which is it?”
Without missing a beat of the dance music, she plucked the five from my upheld hand and lowered her bikini for me to see her tattooed crotch in all it's glory.
Above the shaved pubic mound written in green cursive tube lettering were three words:
Take a chance
What everyone saw was the top of the T sticking out of one side and the curve of the E on the other. I returned to my friend and told him.
“We were both wrong, no bet.”