Stephanie Arthur6Worsop is 19 again and celebrating — for a short while
Stephanie ArthurWorsop finds a hen’s do for her younger sister tests her energy levels
DO YOU WANT a sure-fire way to make yourself feel like you’re as old as time itself? Go out clubbing with your younger sister and her friends.
My sister is getting married next week and I’m the matron of honour (10 points already in the ‘you’re old’ category) so naturally, I had a big part in planning her hen’s do.
After being told she in no way wanted a hen’s do like the one I had (apparently topless waiters and cops signing body parts is unseemly), mum and I came up with a night we knew would hit all the right spots.
Games and cocktails at home, on to town for Caluzzi Cabaret and Drag Show, a private karaoke room then, for anyone who made it that far, dancing at some clubs in town.
A few cocktails into the night had me feeling like I was 19 again.
I was doing shots with the girls I had only met a couple of hours before and at the drag show I was living my best life singing along to timeless classics like It’s Raining Men and Move Your Body Baby.
But as many parents and senior citizens in their late 20s will attest, that burst of energy was destined to be short-lived.
Perhaps the first sign I should have taken note of was when those said shots were making me yawn rather than getting me tipsy but I was determined to power through.
So I did, following the girls on to karaoke where I belted out some Gangsta’s Paradise and No Scrubs (again, showing my age) after which the group committed to carrying on to a club to boogie.
Now, it’s important to note that by this time of the night, the only other two women over 25 on this hen’s do had already bailed and I had promised to stay on to watch over the bride-to-be and her bride squad.
But damn I was tired. After all, I had been up at 6am with my little man and wasn’t able to have a nana-nap earlier in the day as we were too busy setting up.
To top it all off, no matter how many drinks I had, I still felt as sober as a judge.
The thing you need to know about me, however, is I can be bloody stubborn and I set out to give my sissy a great night so you better believe I was going to do just that.
So on to the club we went.
I don’t know if it was my age or my music taste but every song the DJ played, while the girls were dancing around me with wild abandon, I stood there straining my ears trying to work out whether I had heard it before.
You know you’re getting too old to go clubbing when the only songs you do know are the ones the DJ calls “old-school throwbacks” (2010 should not be classed as an old-school throwback, thank you very much!).
But the real nail in the coffin for my night was when I realised I could no longer “drop it low” without needing a hand or two to haul me back up.
On that note, it’s probably not a bad idea to retire from my clubbing days . . . my knees are still aching.