Feeling very worse for wear we all got up in the morning in time to greet everyone else as they arrived. Bacon sandwiches were made, and eaten, en mass before heading into town to get the minibus to F1 karting. At the pub in town we were heading for we met Jane, who we persuaded to come karting with us having decided that for the afternoon she could be a bloke, although some of us were worried about introducing a women driver onto the track purely for saftey reasons but we managed to sneak her in. Most of us hadn't been karting before so it was all a bit new. Basically we would race with lots of other people in teams of four. Each team has one kart and can swap drivers as many times as they wish, the team who have done the most laps after 90 minutes has won, simple eh? In Colin's team was Andy Hamiliton, Myself and Andy (we thought it best if Col went with his Bro, that way they couldn't kill one another on the track!). The karting was fantastic and I think everyone enjoyed it. Being 3 inches from the ground going 30 mph certainly feels very, very quick. There were a few accidents, including a head on smash at top speed by myself, but everyone escaped serious damage. Everyone got into it but a special mention must go to Steve's driving which bordered on the edges of inspired, illegal and lunacy! At the end of a hard 90 minutes Colin's team had come in second and so got to collect a medal for our efforts which I hope Colin treasures to this day!! After the karting it was back home to get ready for the evening.
Saturday evening at last: so this is where the fun begins! Being nice friends we didn't arrange for Colin to be drugged and sent to Africa without a passport or some other outlandish scheme that we could well have pulled off. Instead we opted for the novelty value. Thus Colin found himself armed with a pair of comedy antlers, one leather whip and a nice pair of fluffy handcuffs. Not content to let him walk around with such amusing items we devised a challenge for old chap. Basically the aim was to gather as many photos of himself handcuffed to a stranger. Strictly speaking we did insist that the stranger should be female and so one of his effort does fall foul of this condition. Before setting out we ran a sweepstake on how many gullible women would allow themselves to be handcuffed to Colin. The bidding started at 7 and went up to 20. How wrong could we be?. We had decided on a dress code for the evening, loud Hawiian shirts, and I have to say that everyone put in a good effort but I still maintain that mine was in fact the loudest, but there is still some despute over this so the less said the better! Andy organised the drinks before we left and so with a Red Bull and Vodka sloshing in most peoples stomachs we headed to the bus stop to get to town. The bus itself turned out to be the first thing that Colin got handcuffed to, but this definitly didn't count for the nights tally. First blood went to a nice lady on the bus who had been chatted up by Matt and Andy for most of the way in, chatting about whips and handcuffs, while her husband was (unknown to us) sitting in the seat in front. Not being quite drunk at this point we had the dignity to feel a touch embarrassed when the penny dropped. Still number one was marked on Colin's arm (our way of keeping the tally); second blood went to some innocent bystanders waiting to get money out of the cash point.
The first pub was the Canal House. This became a training ground to sharpen the selling techniques that persuaded otherwise sensible women to allow themselves to be cuffed to Colin. Tonight Colin's bro, Andy, had lost the silver tongue that the women were desperate for the night before and Andy Hamiliton had a big hand in lining them up for Colin. That isn't to say that Colin himself didn't try it on with anything that walked past. On leaving the Canal House we had got to seventeen, the last two being Jane and her mate; after all the excitment karting we can only imagine Jane had set out to follow us through the evening to see what we got up to, or perhaps it was just chance.
Next up was some Spanish food at La Tascas. Having had a bit to dirnk most people were more worried about the rate at which the liquid sustenance was arriving. Andy seemed particularly worried that I wasn't keeping up with the Stag, who in turn started to look a bit green by the time we left, but he rallied well and held it all down throughout the evening. Carnage ensued when we met a hen night, a host of women offered to be cuffed but they wanted one of Colin's socks in return. A bloody good deal if you ask me!! On the table next to ours was a couple having a quiet meal, until he went to the toilet and we harrassed the poor lass into a photo; she was a little worried what her boyfriend would say but to be honest he was never going to argue with 15 drunk lads on a stag party! So one sock down, many beers to the wind we staggered out and headed to the only club that counts: the `rish. To keep the woman count up Colin managed a splendid effort to get the woman in the burger van and even went to work on the queue to get in!
The `rish was up to its normal self with plenty of prey for
Colin to throw himself at. It must be said that we were getting a
bit worse for drink by this point, but so it would seem were all
the potential victims so we had considerable success and the only
limiting factor we found was that we ran out of film!! The official
count stands at 46, somewhat outstripping our earlier guesses of up
to 20!! We did have to defend Colin's head gear from several
attempt of theft, but we managed to end the night still in
possession. The rest of the night remains a drunken haze but I'm
sure we danced, drank and made fools of ourselves; the two quotes
that spring to mind from the evening have to be:
`What are the antlers for, is it your birthday or something??' - Fool number one.
`So who's the stag then??' - Fool number two.