Actually it wasn't that bad. The people I was with were kewl. And that makes all the difference. But no strippers, or hookers, or dildos (oh wait - that's chicks), or sex dolls, or any of that crazy stuff you see on the TV.
The first one that I have been too that was not for me was for a 2nd circle friend. You know - where your good friend is their friend so you occasionally get invited to mutual dos.
I understand that I had a good time. I got incredibly drunk at a restaurant, accused the proprietor of being Dick Smith ("where's ya helicopter Dicky?" "How about some penis butter Dicky?"), then I leant across the table and stole the fat cut from someone's steak and gulped it down.
Left: Harrangueman was convinced that the restaurant owner was this man and that his helicopter was nearby.
I think I have a memory of urinating on a chain link fence with six other guys. And dropping a full beer. And trying to negotiate stairs. And of pretending to be sober(ish) when ordering more drinks.
"Yes ... hello ... bar keep ... a ... frosty ... ale ... please".
The second one was for my friend Hiraethin. It was an awesome night. Chinese food, pool hall, DVDs, much drinking, etc. I fared well after that. I will let Hiraethin speak for himself on that one :).
So this is my fourth time out the gate. Which is ironic because it's going to Rosehill Races. Yep - it's a Buck's day at the races. Now I've never actually been to the Races. Why yes I have had the odd flutter via the TAB in office Melbourne Cup sweeps (which is kewl cause sometimes it's on my birthday). But never actually gone into a live race course during a live horse racing event.
But it's a whole day. And I love the buck. He looks like Colin Firth and he's the loveliest guy you could meet. And he's marrying my beautiful friend from uni (hence my invite). I met her the first night at a party at her place. And again the next morning when I woke up in her laundry mound under a pool table. But I am the 2nd circle friend to the groom here - and the vast bulk of people I will not know. In fact I know the groom and ... that's about it.
Left: The Groom looks like Colin Firth, depicted here at his sexiest.
Now normally when forced into situations such as this, I turn to my good friend grog. But the trouble is it's a full day (in the daylight) event. So this means several hours worth of interaction. And I have to be able to negotiate a long, long train ride there and back (and I have a small bladder).
So I have to do this buck's day practically sober. With people I don't know very well. Although the groom being like a combination of a major English movie actor and well Jesus, I'm sure his friends will be neato.
But I'm still nervous. I'm not so good meeting new people. I tend to shrink into myself, like a scrotum in the pool. Then, later, after I've been 'swimming' for a while, I have this urgent need to go to the toilet because my compressed bladder has no more room for Mr Wee Wee. Oh, wait, that's actually when I go swimming. That's not a metaphor.
Seriously, it usually takes me about an hour to have Mr Scrote (this is a metaphor) to withdraw from the safety of my mental under carriage and for me to get used to the idea of being around people I probably want to impress (it'd be 10 minutes if I was half cut). I suppose the train ride will help with that ("so, what do you do?" ,"how about that Hurricane?" etc). And by the time we alight at Rosehill then some of the nerves will have worn off.
But all through that warming to Harrangueman (and vice versa) period, I'm going to be mentally shrieking a desire to 'cartoon hole in the wall*' and escape.
So how about you punters?
Got any tips for Harrangueman to use when in the company of laddy type lads on their way to the races for an entire day of buckery fun? And without the benefit of alcohol? How do you deal with awkward situations of never met them before socialisation?
Harrangueman needs your advice. Or your stories. Either is good.
* Ala the third law of Cartoon Physics. For the laws, see here.