The plan was simple. On the eve of our friend’s final days as a bachelor, we would give him one last opportunity to savor the taste of good food, the scent of money, and the company of a few fine gentlemen. So it was our plan to meet Saturday morning to drive down to Mohegan Sun, devouring anything we could feast our eyes upon, rake in the dough, and perhaps indulge in a drunken revelry until the wee hours of the night. Of course, things never quite turn out the way we expected. After stopping for some Memphis dry-rub for lunch, another stop to put some air into my tires, and yet another hour to locate the last guy after his call night at the hospital, we didn’t end up leaving the city until almost 3pm. Even worse, when we finally got there, we realized that none of us actually knew how to gamble. We tried putting our six brains together, watched the Craps table for about 10 minutes, and left as clueless as before. We then spent much of the time walking around, nervously clutching our measly stipend savings as we tried to find a game we could actually understand. It didn’t help that the lowest minimum bet at most tables turned out to be $10, which made for a very stressful 10 minutes at the Blackjack table. We finally took what little money we had left to satisfy our stomachs buffet style, before driving back to Boston feeling somewhat defeated. Fortunately, refusing to succumb to our poor fortune, we took a detour to the last resort of single-men: the nudy bar. Centerfolds of Boston is deemed the classiest strip joint in the city, which isn’t saying much considering there’re only two in total. While the place was small and somewhat run-down, the performers were surprisingly attractive. As a final treat, we put our wallets together to buy our guest of honor one final lap dance before the place closed. Despite everything, the weekend in retrospect felt well-executed, accomplishing what we had set out to do… except maybe replacing “money” with “ladies”.