Earwig's Delight: Underwear Partay

I was sitting on the train attempting to read, when an overly loud (but fascinating) phone conversation assaulted me and everyone else in a two car vicinity. The offender was a thirty something man, with big cushy headphones over a baseball hat and a cell phone ear attachment. It went something like this:

“Dude. What are you doing this weekend? Nothin? Well I’ve got three words for you: under…wear…party.”
….
“Five floors. Girls in underwear. Ten bucks to get in. You in?”
…
“I don’t know man, my girl got VIP passes or some shit.”
…
“Ummm, it’s an underwear party dude. It’s ten bucks, half naked girls, five floors…F*ck yeah, I’m going. Now what about you?”
...
“So…what you’re sayin is, you’d rather sit at your boy’s house instead of going to an underwear party and get p*ssy. I’m talkin’ insane p*ssy. Crazy amounts of p*ssy.”
….
“OK, lemme put it to you another way. Dude…SHUT UP. Let me put it to you another way. You know how crazy it is when I go out in White Plains and have like three drinks? FIVE FLOORS SON.”
…
“Ten bucks…p*ssy!”

(here the conductor swiftly approached and asked him to keep it down, as the morning commuting zombies were actually defrosting and twitching in rage at this burst of immoral, dirty debauchery. After pausing and asking two 12 year old boys next to him if they had fake IDs and were interested in attending the party and showing them photos of his ‘girl’ from last year’s underwear fest, he called his friend back, much to my delight).

“So. Underwear party. You going? Dude, that’s why you drink before you go. We’ll get a bottle. We’ll get a few forties. We’ll get on the train. We’ll get RI.DIC.U.LOUS.”
…
“Why is everyone having such a problem with this? It’s ten bucks. Underwear. P*ssy dude. It’s going to be out of control!”
…
“Fine. Don’t go. I guess I’ll just take a load of pictures so you can say…John…you were right.”
...
“So, wanna get some beers and go fishing?”