Oh yes, it’s ladies night…

After writing about The Bachelor Australia last week and making a statement along the lines of ‘how boring would a party with 24 women and one hot man be?’ I must stand corrected – some what.

This past weekend, I partook in the long standing Australian tradition of a football club ladies night, an evening in which standards and class go flying out the door and are quickly replaced with heaving lust and ear piercing squeals of excitement…
Now I must admit, this certainly isn’t my first foray into this time honored affair – nor my second or third – I believe I have been attending this annual affair at the local club for around 6 years now – but don’t tell anyone!

So it’s not quiet like the bachelor – the women in the room aren’t playing for love – we’ll I’d hope not, when they’re there to see paid strippers, and be waited on hand and foot by young football players – most of whom are young enough to be the guests sons! That’s not to say it’s exclusively and event for the ‘young at heart’ but damn, these women, most my mothers age sure do like them some strippers!

So onto what you all want to hear about – the strippers. The crowd went nuts for the…nuts. There wasn’t a whole lot to see though – a quick flash here, a sneaky reveal and a hell of a lot of showmanship. Were we disappointed? Hell no. These men were ripped and they were dancing for us – because we had paid them to. The room of around 100 somewhat drunk women were on the edge of their seats waiting for the extra reveal and giggling with their girls. Magic Mike does not do this experience justice.

If you are yet to see a male strip show, I suggest you get your ladies together and go forth and conquer this world of tack and ridiculousness. Why? Because men go to see strippers all the time. Yes, women tackle the experience in a whole other way and generally it’s a lot more tongue in cheek than a serious man perv. Sure it’s not bad having a little look see at what I might be missing out on but hey they call it ladies night for a reason – it’s because you’re getting out with all your ladies and letting loose – let’s hope not too literally…

The waiters may have been there trying to pick up – hell, as we left for the night, one of my lady pals was asked for her number and from what I can gather she made a good choice in handing it over – a much better choice than her past forays into the world of tinder, but that’s another story for another time…

Should I be talking about this? After all, the old saying goes ‘what happens at ladies night, stays at ladies night’ but to hell with that – if I wanna tell you how awesome it was seeing male strippers, I’ll damned well tell you. And I’m not ashamed, not one bit and hell, even though I did blush, once or twice.

I have no shame, not even an ounce.
I have no shame, not even an ounce.

Stop with your ‘single lady wanting to get married’ shaming….

I’m a little bit annoyed actually, because you see, people keep judging me. I don’t really think that their judgement is fair or valid or, in fact, very polite. Often people will tell you that judgement is just in your head and that ‘hey, being ‘judged’ is a bit of a first world problem, why not go get yourself a soy double mocha-chino and get the fuck over it’. When judgement is obvious though, like when someone does those eyes where they’re looking down upon you and just kind of sigh – maybe they’ll roll their eyes too, with the sole objective of making you feel belittled then it really sucks. This is all sounding pretty damned horrible right now, yeah? Kind of in the whole ‘get out the world’s tiniest violin and play to our hearts content’ way…

Anyhow, I guess you want to know what I’ve been feeling judged about…well, if you insist, I am sick and tired of being judged for talking about my wedding. Yes, I am aware that it’s generally not socially acceptable to talk about your wedding plans BEFORE you get a ring on your finger – yep, that’s right, not even engaged, but seriously, why on earth should that stop my planning?!

There have literally been occasions where I am telling a group of people all about my wedding plans, only for one of them to joyfully exclaim ‘I didn’t know you were engaged – congratulations’ – no, you ass clown, I am not engaged and now you have just made this kind of awkward and you’re certainly going to give me an odd look when I say ‘no, I’m just really organised…’ – and we could have avoided all that!

Now before you get all ‘you don’t need to get married to be happy, you can be a strong independent woman who don’t need no man’ – yes, I’m very aware of that. I don’t necessarily want to get married though, I actually just want a wedding, you see. Now you’re really thinking that I’m crazy, and you know what? You’re probably entitled to that; I’ll let you have that one. People have said to me “why not just have a party”. No. You clearly don’t get it. I want a wedding. Sure it won’t be traditional – I’ve already decided that catering will consist of hamburgers (and a vegetarian version, of course) and cheese platters – because these are superior forms of food. I’ll think I’ll wear a kind of non – traditional dress (but I can’t give too much away) but here’s the clincher – it’s gonna kick the butt of all my ‘friends’ weddings and only cost a fraction of the price! Yep, I’ve got it all sorted. So stop judging me – because yes, I am secretly judging your $20,000 wedding budget – ya fucking nutter.

Fishing-Man