Men and sex: Boys will be girls - Task: the hen night.
Being the only cock on a wild night up West with 20 boozed-up hens would be hell on earth for the average male. But Chris White, 26, a showbiz reporter of all things, reckons he can cope. M has two words for you, young man: tee and hee
3Ladies' night In the next club Abigail and her five bridesmaids head off to the powder room for a girlie gossip. Suddenly Chris perks up. He's never been in a ladies loo before. `Blokes just have a slash and leave, whereas women take hours. Being a "hen" is the perfect opportunity to see what they do in there.' Once in, he's impressed. `Chairs! We don't get chairs in ours!' The girls get comfy and share make-up tips and try on each other's shoes. Chris does his best to join in, but plum lippie really isn't his colour and his size nines threaten to split one girl's candy-striped stilettos.
1All aboard It's like a scene from Summer Holiday as bride-to-be Abigail and 20 of her bestest pals troop aboard The Party Bus - a double-decker, done up with paper streamers and balloons, all set to cart them from club to club. Our man Cliff, sorry Chris, slinks aboard. There's a silence as they size him up. It's like a fox has entered the chicken coop. The girls are all kitted out in customised T-shirts, Chris is in a navy sweater and sensible slacks. Where are ya fairy wings and L-plates, Chris? En route to the first club, a giggly rumour spreads that Chris is a stripper. The girls start shrieking, `Gerremoff!' Chris looks for the emergency exit. The driver booms, `Scream if you're having fun!' Chris just screams.
Chris does his best to join in, but plum lippie really isn't his colour and his size nines threaten to split one girl's stilettos
2Disco fever At the first club the hens instigate a coup of the dance floor while Chris sneaks off to order a pint. But there's no escaping the girls' attention. If he's to be an honorary hen, he is to drink the cocktail of the bird - tequila sunrise. Poor lad. Suddenly the Jackson Five comes on and a sozzled breakaway group of hens drag Chris on to the dance floor for Blame It On The Boogie. Is that Chris rolling his eyes like a rabid horse as he's made to `wave his hands in the air like he just don't care' around the handbags?
4Last orders On to the last club (thank God) and as each hen has drunk enough to give Peter Cook a run for his money, they decide it's time Chris properly resembled a hen. They pop Abigail's veil and L-plates on him and another good slick of lippie. Is it us or is he starting to enjoy this? Perhaps it's just his 15th tequila sunrise. The girls decide to head back to Abigail's for a sleepover, but even though he stinks of perfume and has make-up halfway across his face Chris is not invited. The honorary hen is out of the hen house. `I went down like a lead balloon,' he sighs. `It seems at the end of the day, they didn't want a cock, even one dressed up as a hen.'
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|Publication:||The Mirror (London, England)|
|Date:||Feb 22, 2003|
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