The hen night went well, in the event. I took enough painkillers before I went out that my headache faded and I didn't feel too bad. Funnily enough, I drank plenty but couldn't seem to get drunk - although I didn't try anything too crazy (mixing cocktails and champagne is one thing, but anything else on top of that would just make me ill). I didn't cry at any point, and I stayed out til the end, and I didn't make a fool of myself at any point. Except possibly by dancing my arse off to Jump Around by House of Pain. Everyone seemed impressed, but they might just have been laughing at me.
We went to the Hyena Comedy Club. I've never been there before, or indeed to any other comedy club. It looked exactly how I would have expected a comedy club to look, though. Dark walls, red and orange. Low lighting that went even lower when the comedians came on. Lots and lots of small table packed in to make it hard to move. A well-stocked bar.
The food was pretty good and our waiter was completely excellent. I have a rather bizarre set of dietary requirements and I sent him back and forth to the kitchen about four times trying to narrow down what I could eat. In the end he found the ingredient list on the mayo and read all the way through it for me, and was still smiling at the point at which I would have been telling me to just eat the damned food already. Top marks there. I have a tendency to want to adopt skinny lads who look like they need looking after, to take them home and feed them. It's not sexual so much as a mothering instinct, I think. Examples are Brian from Placebo and most of the members of Muse. And D, when I first met him. The newest member of that cohort is my waiter.
The only comedian I've ever been to see before was Craig Charles, years ago, and I was singularly disappointed with him. I don't think he could ever be as funny as Lister in Red Dwarf though, so maybe I was a bit harsh on him. These comedians weren't bad, though. There was enough sexism to wind me up a bit, and some jokes were a bit too risque, but they were generally pretty good. The compere was Ben Scoufield, I think the first performer was Nick Doody and the second was Pierre Hollins. Who, his name notwithstanding, was English.
We went down to Madisons afterwards, which caused some hilarity for a few of us as Madisons used to be the name of a completely different bar. Complete blast from the past. It was a good night, plenty of drinking and dancing. We left about 1.30am and I got a taxi home with a couple of friends.
Drank plenty of water before bed and took some more painkillers. I had a bit of a hangover when I first woke up, about 9.30am; just a bit dizzy, but I thought I'd get another half an hour or so to try and get past it. The next time I looked at the clock it was 1pm. I've not slept that late in years.
Rabbitwatch: there were five out that I saw on the way into town last night. Two big, three small.