Stop #35: 38th Street (#33)

My bachelorette party, as I'm sure it's no surprise, resulted in some Steak 'n' Shake activity.

Yup. That's me, in full bachelorette party attire, getting excited about what I initially thought was the Steak 'n' Shake headquarters and later learned was actually the Testing Kitchen. Which I need to petition to get into because, seriously, how awesome would that be?

Of course, I did not get in that night. Come on. Bachelorette party. Who in their right mind would let me in?

Instead, I did what I've been wanting tod o for some time now: get drunk -- or, in reality, just a bit tipsy -- and go to the Steak 'n' Shake on 38th Street.

Of course, because it was the Steak 'n' Shake on 38th Street, and it was, as the sign above shows, 3 a.m., and as a result, I must have been lonely, huh?, Kyanne and I were a bit scared.

Emily, too, was frightened.

We'd all ridden the mechanical bull at Cadillac Ranch right after seeing another girl chip her tooth when she fell off the thing, and yet here we were, in the Steak 'n' Shake on 38th Street, scared and shakin' in our boots. Or heels, depending on what type of bachelorette party you think I was having.

So we tried to make it a quick stop. I got the Guacamole Steak Frank and fries, because on the night of your bachelorette party, it's like a requisite thing that everything must somehow come back to things of a phallic nature.

A typical bachelorette party.

Pictured: The giant penis (stuffed) that one bachelorette party brought to the bar.

Not pictured: The giant penis (balloon) that the other bachelorette party brought to the bar.

Also not pictured: My milkshake, which brings all the boys to the yard.

There, that's better.

Though my night was actually somewhat tame, in part because I'd asked Kyanne not to incorporate a lot of penises into my party.

Fortunately, Kyanne's the type of spectacular friend who knows when I don't mean exactly what I say. Because she presented me with the following card:

Which really only makes sense if you've read Hyperbole and a Half. Though, if you're reading my blog, you're on the Internet, and if you're on the Internet, you really kind of have to have heard of Hyperbole and a Half. Hell, half the time Allie is my inspiration. The other half of the time, she is simply hyperbole.

But I digress. The point is, a fantastic night of bachelorette party festivities culminated in a stop at Steak 'n' Shake that wasn't just any stop, but the stop that actually marks the halfway point of this quest.

As the sign says, "Oh-oh, we're halfway there. Oh-oh, livin' on a prayer."

And a Frisco Melt and cheese fries. Which might be why we need the prayer.