I ended up going clubbing last weekend.
Yes, me, clubbing! Can you imagine it? I thought these days were well and truly over for me but they might not be after my first venture into clubland this century.
Well, it’s been more than 13 years actually, and things have changed quite a bit since I was a regular at taxi ranks in the wee sma’ hours I can tell you.
For instance, when did women stop putting their handbags in front of them when they are on the dancefloor?
I was told it was now considered a health and safety hazard as a drunk could fall over it ... and soon learned that was entirely justified after seeing the state some people were in.
The evening’s occasion, a surprise 40th birthday party at a golf club of a good friend’s son, who just happens to be a hunky fireman.
To my, and most of the other ladies’, delight a lot of his colleagues were in attendance - a whole table of them in fact.
My friend had to stand next to the fire alarm for most of the night guarding it in case anyone got any ideas of being whisked to safety. There was a lot of requests to the DJ for ‘I Need A Hero’ as well.
The night started off well. I turned up just a little late, fashionably of course, and was greeted by a horde of old friends I hadn’t seen for years and we were screaming loud hellos at each other from two feet away and embracing with genuine joy like little schoolgirls at the prom.
It didn’t take long for the wine to flow and the old stories to resurface either, and everyone was soon having a whale of a time. Loudly, I might add!
My friend has one of those infectious laughs that make you laugh along. The anecdote doesn’t even need to be funny, she just loves laughing and usually at me.
She enjoys telling tales from the old days with a few in particular that grow arms and legs every time.
Like the time I was asked if I had seen the film ‘Rita, Sue and Bob Too’, to which my reply was, “No, I haven’t even seen the first one!”.
Or the time I fainted when I came face to face with Tom Jones in a London restaurant as I was entering and he was exiting the the toilets. My friend always says ‘It’s Not Unusual’ for me to do that in the presence of handsome men.
The evening went too quickly and we all decided we should follow the younger party to the over-30s club for a bit of a boogie and a laugh when it was closing time at the golf club.
Once inside the club the first thing I spotted was a big silver pole with women – and men – hanging off it and how many tattoos younger people have these days.
Anyway, after a couple of those Sambuca thingymijigs we invaded the dancefloor with as much grace as a herd of rhinos and danced to everything from Rhianna to Duran Duran.