The long weekend is over. Which I am almost kind of glad about given the size of my Saturday night. Let me take a trip down memory lane, the parts of it I can anyway, and reminisce of a time of shirtless men, terrible strip shows, tables at nightclubs and a lot of fake tan.
My group of friends were soooo not the type to have a big Hen's do. I also wasn't (ha! as if!) So when a girlfriend from work invited me to her's I jumped. Hotel rooms, shirtless waiters, strippers, a table at Marquee... who could say no?
I'll include only photos with blurred faces. It's only fair.
The table at Marquee. Having a table is the business. Someone to pour your drinks, no lining up for anything, security to keep people from touching you, space to dance, somewhere to put your bags and jackets, and a SEAT. Even with all that though... it's still a nightclub and people touch you a lot it's SO loud and the music was not great. The DJ was some guy I used to see in a dodgy local club when I was going underage.
See those light up giant glow stick things on the table? Special people like us (ha!) got these and we had every random come up to us and ask for them, ask to buy them, etc. We had some guys offer to buy us drinks... despite having 5 bottles of vodka on the table... too funny.
I'm aware of how old this makes me sound and I actually don't care a smidgen. I had a great time with awesome girls but gosh I'm glad that's a rare event these days. Give me Marcel and the couch any day.
Me in the blur of the constant lightsThe stripper... so so so bad. When he said ''girls, do you want me to take it all off?'' and we were all silent... awkward!
These guys however were awesome. We had two very attractive (I was shocked) guys to pour our drinks at the hotel. Not only were they hot and very attentive, but they were the BEST source of gossip. The things we learnt about Jen Hawkins' hens night!
Sunday I did not move off the couch, except to eat about 4 kilos of Oportos for dinner which Mr C kindly went and got me. I think that is true love, looking after your hungover partner, and not rubbing their faces in it.
Monday, Mr C and I went to Bondi super early for a walk and for brekkie, and to take advantage of the gorgeous winter weather. And so I could sweat out .00001% of the toxins I consumed on Saturday night.
Kidding, it takes about 54 of these to get one of relative stillness. See those legs kicking and the evil eyes? Hmm.Winter? No one told Bondi
Breakfast at Atlas. I was so hungry (clearly not enough Oportos the night before) and demolished my stack before I could take a photo. Always extra kudos to cafes who bring water for Marcel. Sweet thought, but of course we always bring water with us everywhere for him as he is MENTAL.