Awright hen

Saturday October 21st was the fateful date of the traditional Hen. And what a day it was! Thoroughly enjoyed by the Hen herself and rumours have it the bevvy of party goers had a decent time too! Those in attendence were a mix-'em gather-'em bunch from all corners of Sharon's dark and murky past.

The day started well, with Carol arriving at the house to pick me up and off we headed into the shopping delights of Edinburgh, in an excursion to find some bridal bra'n'pants. Our quest for lingerie took us to John Lewis and Jenners but we left empty-handed. However, we had a good laugh at the John Lewis lady who tried to tell me I was a 36DD. In Ian's dreams! By the way, the John Lewis lady did actually work in the lingerie department, and wasn't any old bird, doing her shopping, offering estimations on chest sizes!

Having met Judy for a quick bite, we had to go collect Alana en route. Her hangover was quite a belter and it's the quietest I have seen her in quite some time. Neither the silence or the hangover lasted long, thankfully!

We arrived at Next Generation a few minutes late. After an initial few moments of general confusion and nobody having a clue what was going on (me included in that), we eventually got ourselves sorted and the party was split into those who wanted to go for a swim and those not too energetically inclined. The afternoon was spent in the sauna, steam room, Japanese spa, and the pool. It was all incredibly relaxing. Some kind lady came along and gave us all some white wine! Alana took quite a liking to the bucket of cold water that you could voluntarily (?) pull over yourself. There was also this long hose, which looked far too much like a device used for colonic irrigation!

Some of us availed of the services of the Cheynes Beauty salon, offering Swedish massage, facials, chicken plucking and the likes. Magic darts!

When the time came to get changed, there were queues for the showers, queues for the hairdryers, cries of "I can't find my clean pants", checking belly-buttons to see if they've "popped" yet, the admiring of new outfits, and Lesley Stewart and I agreeing that we were old enough and confident enough to go out wearing the same trousers! General hot-chicks-getting-ready-to-go-out stuff.

We moseyed along, all tarted up, to the bar to have a few drinks, pick up Phil (not in the biblical sense!), and chill out before heading to Mariachi's. Carole B handed me my first gift of the night which was a disposable camera and a funky photo album to store the snaps at a later date. Much appreciated! Sitting there, we were sipping our gins when a voice comes from behind "Is there a Sharon Coen in the bar?" I turned and saw this middle-aged man in a grey suit and a cap walking towards me. My initial thought was "Christ, he's a bit old for a stripper!"

But no! He announces "Your limousine is outside whenever you are ready." There was a sudden crash! It was my jaw hitting the floor. My honey, darling,
gorgeous, wonderful friends had gone to the trouble of hiring a stretch limo for a champagne tour of Edinburgh! This was, without a doubt, the best part of the day! We all piled in, lounging on the leather-upholstered chairs, sipping champagne from crystal glasses. We toured about and it was dead funny peering out at all these people through tinted glass while they peered in to see who was in the limo. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful.... can't say enough! A huge thanks to the usual suspects for arranging it. Judy, I thought of you while we drank the bubbly; you were the one born to live in such splendour and luxury, shame you missed it. :-(

We were deposited outside Mariachi's in Leith where we met up the rest of the gang who were meeting us there, Ali, Julia and Christine. They obviously had got piled into the margharitas. Food and more drink were ordered, and then the gifts began to be passed out! My wonderful pink fluffy tiara was put in place for the evening. The handcuffs were interesting, especially when I thought I had lost the keys only to find I had quietly put them down my bra for safe keeping and then promptly forgotten where I had put them!

One of the best laughs of the night was Alana pouring out a glass of margharita and the whole contents of the jug sliding out into and around her glass and over someone's nachos! The look on Alana's face was worth it! Being the chancing git I am, I tried to wangle a free replacement jug, but the waiters weren't having any of it. Speaking of waiters, does anyone know who that chap was who kept coming over for kisses, winking at me from across the room, etc? Anyone get his phone number??? ;-)

Other delights included Lust Dust, which I think you "sprinkle on his winkle", according to the packaging. Whats wrong with Grow-bags, I say? The archer's set of bow, arrow and quiver was well received, althought it took me a few go's to sort out this firing an arrow business. The one I managed to get right launched across the room, whizzing past a surprised waiter called Miguel! Lets just say I am no William Tell!

Alana brought along some lucky bags, which provided all sorts of daft toys, colouring books and crayons to keep us amused, sweeties, and best of all, little packs of cards with characters on them. Phil quickly found two he
liked, which he stuck to his chest - "Queen" and "Fairy"!

And what Hen Night would be complete without the ubiquitous dessert of two scoops of ice-cream and a well placed banana with a cherry on top! But did they really have to make such a show of me, with the enormous sombrero, and the old "Cong-rat-ula-tions, and cele-bra-tions..." little tune? What size was that hat, you could have housed a small Mexican family in there!

From there, we wandered over to Nobles where a band were playing. Good band, shame about the singer who was about a half tone out of key the whole time! After one drink and a couple of murdered hits of the '80's, we departed and ended up in The Ship. A couple of drinks there and then we called it a day at chucking out time. Various taxis were hailed and we all went our own merry way.

I went to bed with trepidation that night, thinking I was going to have a belter of a hangover the next day. But I felt surprisingly fine on the Sunday, considering the amount of alcohol I poured down my neck the night before. Somehow, I felt I had cheated the system, and got away scot free! Maybe it was the cup of tea Carol and I had before going to bed that saved us? But after consultation with a few others, the general opinion is that Mariachi's arent too liberal with the old tequila in their nmargharitas!

Thanks to one and all who attended the hen day/night, your company made the day a special one. And I'd also have looked a right eejit on a hen night on my own :-) I collected the photos and they are an interesting collection of snaps! Some great shots with the limo, a fab one of Phil on the floor of the limo,
Alana with her spilt Margharita, Lynne doing a fabulous sphincter-mouth impersonation, me and the stripper/limo driver, and who took that one of my cleavage? I'll try and scan some in and get them loaded up!

PS. I am not the wordsmith my husband-to-be is, so apologies for the sh*te prose compared to his eloquent rendition of his stag.

PPS. And yes, I know I left out the bit about the Chippendale strippers and all the kinky lingerie, but the less Ian knows about that, the better. So lips buttoned ladies, we'll keep that between ourselves!