CP NEWS: Pimp My Bus

[ddm-news]

If you've been to Vegas, you've been on the Party Bus. (And if you haven't, you should.) For only marginally more than the cost of a cab, you and your ten drunken friends get a bus pimped out with a bar, dancefloor, flashing lights, and even stripper poles.

Well those buses are no longer confined to Vegas.

In New York, the "Party Ride" (not nearly as cool a name as the Party Bus) comes with a dance floor, stripper poles, flat-screen TVs, strobe-lights, and the occasional stripper.

Oh, and it probably comes with 20-30 drunken, obnoxious frat boys, too. You can just visualize the Stripey shirts and the gelled-up, triangle-tent haircuts.

Documenting the trend is a surprisingly entertaining feature in the New York Times, which observes that the next generation of stretch Party Buses will have a karaoke machine and private "necking rooms."

(Um, perfect for those 20-guy bachelor parties? Anyway.)

Some excerpts:

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New Yorkers love a good party. They also have a certain fondness for public transportation, even more so when it functions. Imagine, if you will, a leather-upholstered boxcar that allows all manner of pleasure seeking, including smoking and go-go girls, a flat-screen TV and a bathroom, and you will understand why John Grando and his business partner, Hesie Elias, have invested millions of dollars in a tricked-out collection of diesel monsters that are revolutionizing the rent-a-limousine business in New York.

...

Tommy Radalj, the company's director of marketing, said a new stretched-out generation of 50-passenger giants, arriving in the coming weeks, would bump up the excess with a private necking room, a karaoke machine and not one but two flat-screen televisions that show satellite programs.

"Did I mention the stripper poles and the diner-style booths?" asked Mr. Radalj, sitting in the company's Long Island offices as he juggled several ringing telephones. The stripper poles, he quickly added, can be removed for weddings and family reunions.

...

The speakers blared and every few minutes, Vadim Shakhmurov, the Uzbek-born driver, would push a button above his head, filling the cabin with clouds of artificial smoke. Roving red lasers darted through the fog. People danced.

Full story after the jump.

Link To Original Article