I'd like to say that I've only just around to blogging about my hen night as I've only just recovered, but that would be a lie to make me sound more rock and roll than I am. In truth I am lazy.
But look at my banner! It is a work of beauty and I love it. I have it at home, and if we ever live anywhere big enough to put it up, I will! Click on the picture to see an in depth explanation of the banner, just like at a museum.
It was an excellent night, and went a bit like this (I think):
2.30pm Meet friends at Euston Station and nip to M&S for those hen night essentials: tea bags and champagne.
4pm Cups of tea and glasses of champagne all round and a game of 'pin the winky wonky on Dave Grohl'. This is a bit like pin the tail on the donkey, but with more rock stars and penis shaped vegetable photos.
6.30pm Everyone going "argh we have an hour to get ready and there are four ladies per bathroom!"
7.45pm I am bossing everyone into putting the finishing touches to their make up and bundling them out the hotel.
7.50pm I shove four of the ladies into a taxi telling them a bus would never turn up, and we'll get the next available taxi.
7.51pm Me, Miss S and Booky B get on a bus, realising we have sent the four ladies who don't live in London off in the taxi...
8.05pm Hurrah! We arrive at the pub and the taxi ladies are already there and getting the drinks in.
9pm Whilst I am forcing booze down Booky Bs neck like it's going out of fashion, we make friends with a young man called John. Booky B thinks she told him he looked like a male prostitute. What she actually said was "You look like a male prostitute". John replied with "Well, how much would you pay for me" Booky B "Five pounds. And I'd expect four pounds fifty change" How did this woman end up married?
10pm Head off from the pub to the club. I demand we get taxis! Four of us jump into the first taxi and I ask for a fictitious address. We want the Macadam building, I ask for Macadam Street. It's a miracle we get there. As we are pulling off in our taxi, we look out of the back window to see a rikshaw dude pulling up looking like all his birthdays have come at once. At last, a punter, willing to risk life and limb in my rickety rickshaw! And not any old punter but three lovely ladies! The three lovely ladies wave rikshaw man on and get in a proper taxi.
10.30pm Making our way into the club, we cannot manage (between eight of us, two totally sober) to press the right button in the lift. This is shocking. Three of us even worked in this building for quite a while. All the more shocking is there are only three buttons you can press - the way out, the club and for some reason floor 2. This totally flumoxes us, and we (of course) press the wrong one, pile out at floor 2, only to turn on our heels and pile back in. We press all buttons for good measure and eventually get into the club.
10.35pm I make my way to the DJ box. I tell him "hello, it's my hen night" point to my 'Abby's Hen night 2006' badge lovingly made by my sister. I continue; "if you play The Smiths or The Wonderstuff I can guarantee you at least four (hold up four fingers) ladies on that empty dancefloor (point at empty dancefloor)" DJ agrees. I think he may have been a little scared.
10.40pm Carter USM 'Bloodsport For All' comes on! Yesssss! Pretty sure that only me and Booky B knew the track, most of the kids in there probably weren't born when it was out. We dance like we're 19 and manage to take up the whole, empty dancefloor.
2am We continue to dance the night away, Booky B and Miss S attract a lot of male attention, all of them weird. Finally when our legs are about to seize up we head back to the hotel, where asking for extra pillows seems to be a very greedy thing to do, the receptionist telling us "I am very busy" forgetting that we just had to walk through a very empty reception to get to our room...
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