One of my friends is getting married soon, so we took it upon ourselves to plan a bachelor party for him. We wanted to celebrate the fact that he was finally getting hitched — to be honest, we were really starting to doubt he ever would — as well as have one last blow-out together as bachelors.

We found this resort. It was out in the middle of nowhere, but it billed itself as “the Last Paradise of Single Men,” and we thought that there would be no better place to go for his bachelor’s party. The airfare was surprisingly cheap, and the per-night rate of the hotel was pretty much a steal. We were all more than happy to go on a party that wouldn’t break our banks.

When we got to the resort, we realized that they hadn’t lied on their webpage. There wasn’t a single woman in sight. Everyone, from the guests that were lounging around in the lobby, to the staff that were assisting new visitors, was male. And every single one looked like a veritable god, wearing tight t-shirts and speedos that showed off their enviable endowments.

Maybe that should have been a warning. A red flag that something wasn’t right here. But we were high on the idea of a great vacation and we checked in without a worry on our minds. Now, I’m not so sure. My friends, they’ve changed, and I’m afraid that I’m next.