Another Naked Man

This weekend I have to go to a Hens Night. I say have to go, because in all honesty, I’m not particularly enthused about it. These sorts of things are really only properly fun if you know a few people and in this case, I will only know two people – the bride-to-be and my sister.

Ok, I’ll be honest - the real reason that I don’t feel particularly enthused about going is that they’re getting a stripper. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not against the idea of a naked man in your normal sort of naked man circumstances (in fact, under the right circumstances, a naked man can be quite nice). It’s just the idea of an oiled up stranger gyrating to tacky music and stripping off to wave his what-not around in someone’s face that doesn’t really appeal to me. I know I’m not alone in this, so I’m not afraid to admit it.

Add to this the fact that I will know only two people in the room and it all becomes a little creepy – I might as well go and sit in a strip club full of strangers where I can practise my creepy old lady faces. At least that way I could leave whenever I wanted.