Worst nightmare comes true

Admittedly I am rather old (39 + vat + postage and packing) and I do have a lot of female friends, and all my siblings and cousins are female. Despite the fact that most are married, including myself, I had never, EVER been on a hen night. Purely because the whole idea makes me cringe. Now, a stag night is a different kettle of bananas, but that's another story.

Saturday it happened. My cousin Justine (yes you, ya moo) made me go to her hen night. There were 20 screaming women (terrible, just terrible) and we had to dress as cowgirls.

As I was sat on the train into Leeds city centre on Saturday evening with everyone else dressed up in there posh outfits it dawned on me (after spotting my reflection in the window) that a check shirt, jeans and boots made me look more like a lesbain than a cowgirl. And that thought stayed with me, festering all evening. Cos after all, I might not look like a dainty little princess on the outside, but that's how I feel inside and nothing can ever, ever be too pink or too glittery for me.

The combination of screeching women (even though I was related to many) and looking so butch was making me totally miserable. The kind of miserable that no matter how many large vodkas I drank I was simply not getting pissed enough to not give a monkeys how I looked. I stuck it for 2 1/2 hours before I did a runner and legged it for the last bus (although, theoretically I was willing to stump up for a taxi.) As I stood in the bus queue a man came over and started chatting me up. Asked me to go drinking and dancing with him. Was most insistent (but I didn't.) Me, in a mood to end all moods, with a face like a slapped arse, looking butcher than butch. Ha!

Obviously the lesbian look is favoured by the latino type, or the poor man was very, very, desperate.........