Oh dearie me, free drinks is a bad bad thing. Well it’s bloody good because it = a cheap night out but it is not so great the next morning when your voice is hoarse from shouting over MASSIVE speakers all night and you have sore fingers from double, triple, and quadruple parking your drinks! The boys hit upon the idea of attacking the bar and stockpiling freebies in our corner and so we were all ordering rounds in 8’s! The bar itself is exactly like it was in its previous incarnation but just painted purple… They had fire breathers, big Harley bikes outside, scantily clad women on stilts, girls dancing on the bar and lashings of free food and drink, plus velvet ropes outside with the VIP’s to one side and the plebes to the other. Sadly we didn’t quite manage to blag into the VIP side but we did get pushed right to the front of the plebe queue by virtue of knowing the right people and as it was we managed to get in before most of the so called VIP’s.
Saw my lovely Doodah’s nephew (ex England footballer) and made a bit of a tit of myself in front of him which I am blaming on being drunkie (I’d only had one Desperado by then but shhhhh) so was pleasantly surprised when he told Doodah that he thought I seemed really nice. He is a lovely bloke and offered to sort us out with tickets to the party if we didn’t have any! I love my lovely friends and we had a fabulous night out, although still there were a few dampeners on the occasion like the absolute knobhead at the bar who thought it was funny to try and trip me up when I was carrying four drinks. He was probably just a gigantic bellend anyway but in my head he did it because I was the ‘fat girl’ and he and his pathetic little friends thought it would be amusing to be cruel. I wish I’d slapped him round his sniggery little face but instead I called him a dickhead and stalked off.
Lovely lovely Owen told me that I was looking hot and was I worried that I was shrinking away to nothing – I was so chuffed, especially as before Cuba I would have predicted hell freezing over before being friends with someone as cool and sorted as him. I loved being on the dancefloor and just letting loose although it is testimony to how much I had imbibed that I was out there strutting my stuff instead of shuffling from foot to foot. I even did some dirty dancing with a friend of Owen and Treasure’s which was harmless and fun (although he was whispering filth into my ear so it didn’t last long before I moved away!). I was also approached by two men who wanted to dance/chat/buy me a drink but as per usual my self consciousness took over and although they *may* have been genuine in my head they were only doing it to win a ‘pull a pig’ competition and so I’m afraid they got short shrift from me!
I need to start overcoming this feeling that if I’m out and someone starts talking to me it’s because they’re trying to win a bet or some other underhand reason. I suppose it is indicative that my self esteem is still pretty shoddy however what if either of those guys were genuine and I’ve just missed out on something good? How can I tell if they’re cocky little twats who like making people look stupid or the real deal? Answers on a postcard please…..