Well the Bail Babes went and got themselves arrested last night.
We'd had a really good rehearsal -- wait until you hear Che's guitar solo during "Purple Rain" -- and the Babes themselves did great work. It appears that they were so jazzed by how well things went that they decided to practice on their own. They wanted a truly great practice space, so they crashed a private bachelorette party at a strip club and climbed up on the stage with the, ahem, male artistes. The bride-to-be didn't like being upstaged, so she jumped on the stage and starting screaming and yelling and attacking the Babes. The dancer/cop, dancer/firefighter, and dancer/construction worker didn't like having their session with Babes interrupted, so one of them decked Bridezilla. Then her bridesmaids got in on the action and then more male dancers joined in to support their brothers-in-Speedos and then things got really out of control. By the time the police (the real ones, not strippin' ones) arrived, the place looked like a taping for a Jerry Springer show.
It's my understanding that the bride's gonna have one helluva shiner for her wedding day.
I can't decide if I should be proud of the Bail Babes for their strong work ethic and willingness to practice after hours, or if I should be pissed that I had to spend money earmarked for new Tiffany class rings on bail instead.