From exciting cities where you can combine partying with sightseeing, to spending your hen do on the beach, the choices are endless. You don't have to stay close to home…
Written by Paula Jones Last updated: June 6, 2006
Drunken brawls, drama queen brides‐to‐be, paranoid best men, disastrous last minute stag dos… just some of the things that can go wrong.
How NOT to do it ‐‐ cautionary tales of hen and stag dos that make you wish you’d stayed at home…
‘I went to a stag night in Spain that involved a load of blokes on a long table in a private room above a restaurant. At the end of a very raucous meal, a belly dancer appeared and started doing her stuff, very provocatively, up and down the table. Several males got rather over‐excited and did their best to get to know her better. Unfortunately, it turned out that her hulk of a boyfriend was standing just outside ‐‐ so the night ended rather abruptly with us being chased through the streets…’
’My partner, Mack, and I decided to have a mixed do. We hired a band and a tent and did it all in our garden. Unfortunately, no one was in charge of standing up and actually reminding everyone of why we were there, so all our mates just turned it into an ordinary party. They sat around, helping themselves to booze and food, and a couple of them even almost got into a fight. As a couple we were totally ignored, and felt rather cheated.’’
’For my friend, an ultra‐cool type, we’d organised a very classy hen night out, including a meal at a restaurant that I knew she’d love. But for a bit of a laugh, we pretended we were doing a really tacky typical hen night. In her flat beforehand, I produced, with a flourish, this terrible veil with tiara (which had cost me £29 to rent incidentally) and she burst into tears and got very upset. She disappeared into the bathroom and, thinking I’d done enough damage, I stayed well away, leaving it to her sister to comfort her. So I was horrified when I finally ventured into the bathroom to discover her sister stabbing the tiara into my sobbing friend’s head and muttering, ‘”You are such a bloody drama queen. Get the bloody tiara on and shut up!”’
’On one hen night I went to, the whole event became too much for one of our mates, who was right in the middle of a very bitter divorce. She got hideously drunk and spent the whole of the night with her head down a toilet, sobbing. I never even saw her ‐‐ and nor did anyone else. There was just this empty place at the table and everyone else just carrying on regardless, eating her food.’
’The worst stag night I went on involved a very paranoid best man. After we’d been drinking and dancing perfectly happily in one club, he got it into his head that a man in a dark suit and glasses was out to get him. Nobody could persuade him otherwise and in the end he forced us all to leave the place we were in and get taxis to another club miles away. We were all so annoyed with him we made him pay for everything for the rest of the night. It cost him a fortune!’
’My best friend had a terrible hen night. We were in an Indonesian restaurant, minding our own business, when a woman on the other side of the room ‐‐ for reasons which are still unclear ‐‐ took exception to us. She came over and threw a glass of water over the bride‐to‐be. A fight was narrowly avoided, and the evening ended prematurely. Worst of all, in all the fuss everyone forgot to chip in their money ‐‐ leaving the bride‐to‐be to foot the entire bill!’
’My best friend’s hen night was a total disaster. Halfway through the night, two of her other friends decided that they didn’t think her man was right for her at all. They sat up half the night trying to talk her out of the wedding, while everyone else sat around getting drunk and not knowing what to say. When it comes to my turn to have a hen night, I’ll take care who I invite!’
’The night before my wedding, my brother and his mates decided to give me an impromptu stag night (even though I’d already had one two weeks before) and stupidly I went along with it, somehow getting very drunk! We were in a club in town and my brother had chatted up some girls who kept flirting with me, as the ‘groom to be’. One of the girls was all over me. I was trying to fend her off when I was knocked sideways by a killer punch. My bride‐to‐be’s brother had been sent along by my mother to find us and bring us home and he was furious. It took us all night to persuade him that nothing was going on and not to tell his sister and by the time I was due to be married I was so hungover and tired that I could barely stand up. Plus I had a bruise on my cheek! Luckily, my wife has a great sense of humour and now teases me about it, but I never want to relive the night before my wedding again!’
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