Surviving a Hen weekend is an Art.

 

For the last few years I have been working in the hospitality industry and see hen and stags partyscome in high-spirited unison and leave in a death like state looking as though to hate themselves and their surroundings. In my tender 21 years I have never lived through  one of these weekends. But my time had Finally come. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you.

 

Week 11: Surviving my First Hen Weekend


No disrespect to anyone intended, but when I think of Hen weekend my thoughts aren’t exactly of admiration. A few buzz words that come to mind are: Thrashy, Slutty, Tacky etc. Now don’t get me wrong, I do love a bit of Tack, but whatever it is I’ve always thought very little of the people travelling on Hen weekends. I was very interested to see how my opinion would stand after being a little naive chick on my first Hen weekend.

 

Day 1

Friday:


The Hen weekend was in Carrick on Shannon. So I was due to set off at 3pm. We had been updated on the running order of the weekend and already I had dropped my pessimism. I was really really looking forward to the weekend. I convinced myself that our weekend was different to the hen partys I see every weekend in Temple Bar. But maybe that’s the thought of everyone embarking on a hen weekend. Even though my hen weekend was a super fun, seemingly classy weekend, would others look at us and think. “Jaysis, the state of those tarts!” ?

On the agenda for Friday night was a “Girls Night In” We were to be pampered in one of the houses we rented by beauticians and served cocktails from handsome waiters wearing next to nothing. essentially luxurious and classy and it seemed to stay that way! I got plastered in the weirdest way possible. Totally relaxed, upbeat and hilarious. It’s odd getting an AMAZING back massage 6 beers and 7 cocktails into the night.

 

Conclusion of Day: Amazing, one of the best nights I’ve had. Completely unusual, relaxing, spot of hilarious karaoke and a good dose of mischief with Nicole (the bride to be) climbing into the neighbour’s garden to use their trampoline and not forgetting the Chinese! Nom Nom…

 

Day 2:

Sat:


This one was always gonna be a toughy. A whole 24 hours of pure Hen-ning. All with the pain and horror of a wicked hangover!

 

But a beautiful miracle occurred. I woke up, after about 4 hours sleep, completely fresh. And i don’t mean I was just ok, considering. I mean I was funky fresh. Clear Head, stable stomach, not even any stingy eyes. I suppose they say that if you eat before you go to bed to soak up the alcohol, your hangover wont be as bad. Well it must have been the TWO HUNDRED EURO WORTH OF CHINESE FOOD that provided the soakage.

 

I was literally eating all night. Also I imagine a massage would aid the hangover process. Getting that blood flowing. So I present to you my newest hangover cure, never stop eating all night and get a back and head massage from a 55-year-old Russian mother of three.  We had a few activities scheduled for today:

 

Hair dresser:

Great idea! Afer my head massage, y hair was greasy ball. I plain and simply couldn’t be arsed washing, blow drying and straightening my hair so the group discount at the hair dressers flippin rocked. Plus there was no tack involved

 

Afternoon Free:

We had intended on relaxing and getting ready for our evening in our spare few hours. But of course on the way home from the hair dresser it decided to piss rain. So we hit the pub.

 

Dinner:

Yum yum yum yum yum! The Oarsman in Carrick on Shannon is bleedin delish. Didnt have time for desert though! At this stage we were wearing tiaras. Although we were still well-mannered (this may not be true, my memory says we were but keep in mind I had spent the whole afternoon in the pub.) I imagine the tiaras evoked some dirty looks.

 

Shannon Cruise.

How fancy does that sound. In reality it was a floating bar. Dancing, Fake penises, Edible penises, drinking, playboy bunny ears. This is where we transcended into a typical hen party……and it was GREAT!

 

Penis Sweets

Bar/Club:


Note: Pervy old man in THE NIGHT CLUB. Oh Carrick on Shannon you Bizarre town!

 

We sectioned ourselves off in a little corner and played Hen Party Games. Tacked to the max. There were about 5 other hen partys in the pub and I would like to think we weren’t the most rowdy but we most probably were. Definitely not the most slutty. The english ladies dressed as police women won that round.

We were such a hen party today and this is where I thought i would drop the ball. My fears of being a tacky slappy slutty face were confronting me and I embraced them and had the time of my life really


DAY 3

Sunday:

Nothing planned only breakfast and the dreaded journey home. AGAIN! Fresh as a daisy. I did feel tired, which is understandable after the our eventful saturday. There were a lot of others on the trip however hanging big time on the Sunday morning. As we drove home I remember seeing a car pulled up on the side of the road and one of the party puking her guts up! Good times! Everyone went home in one pice though, bar a few knocks and the obvious loss of stomach contents.

 

So how did I survive my First Hen Weekend.

  • I said “Fuck it” – I let myself go with the flow.
  • I ate my body weight in Chinese Food
  • I had Red bull and double vodka on night two to keep myself awake
  • I  tacked to the max and played hilarious drinking and hen games. Laughter was uncontrollable at times.

So it turned out that surviving my first hen weekend was a breeze. I think a lot of it was down to the bloody AMAZING organisation of the wonderful Avril O’Byrne. The girls night in was the best idea ever and saturday was packed perfectly with super fun stuff!

I feared being Thrashy, Slutty, Tacky. And I think as a whole we just managed Tacky and it was hilarious! I don’t know if it depends on the group of people travelling, or the destination or the activities planned that make me look at a hen party and think “Oh God”. Maybe its just me, maybe I shouldnt be so quick to judge, perhaps the hen parties I encounter are just as harmless as the one I was on.

 

Week 11: Surviving my first Hen Weekend: Total screaming success!!!!!

 

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