28 June 2014 (Saturday) - Stag Do
"My Boy TM" was on the doorstep at 7.30am and we set off to Battle (via a couple of geocaches en route). My brother's stag day was starting with a round of golf. We'd been told to get there for 8.30am; we did. Everyone else arrived at 9am. Beer was handed out, and after a slight altercation with an exploding golf ball we set off on a round of eighteen holes which in theory should have taken about four hours. It took six.
I was caddying; and our group was last to set off. I'd not met the rest of our group before, but they were all good blokes and we had a good laugh as we went round. We met up with my cousin at the third hole; he had a bottle of rum. Very nice if you like that sort of thing. Personally I do. And the rum did help with the golf.
Don't get me wrong; we had a good fun time. But I was put off golf. Battle golf course was chosen for our day because it is a quiet golf course; hardly anyone else uses it and so we could be raucous without upsetting any normal people. But the reason that no other golfers use the course is because it's so dreadfully maintained. There were no golfing greens on the course at all; they were all browns. And we spent so much time searching for lost balls in unmowed grass and un-raked-up grass clippings.
I think it's fair to say that searching foor lost balls added two hours to the time it took us to go round; other groups gave up. Mind you as we went round we were finding shot glasses of rum which had been left for us. They went down nicely.
Once back at the club house I polished off the last of the rum and we all had a plate of ham egg and chips each; I washed mine down with a bottle of ale. We then adjourned to my brother's house to get changed, and then went on something of a pub crawl around Hastings Old Town.
We started off in an old favourite pub of mine - the First In Last Out. A couple of pints there whilst most people arrived, and then we moved on to the Jenny Lind where the star of the show attempted to have sex with a statue of a mermaid. Some Samuel Smith's in the Hastings Arms got guzzled whilst we staged an arm wrestling contest. And a pint of Whitstable Bay went down very nicely in the Pump House.
By now we'd had an elegant sufficiency (burp!) and being a stag do it was decided that we would go to the strip club. There's no denying that this had been on the cards sincce the start of the evening. There's also no denying that I was hoping we wouldn't.
Hastings strip club was.... well, the only word I can really use is "dire". It cost five pounds each to get in. And the strippers... well, there weren't any aactual strippers. There were half a dozen young girls (who barely looked old enough to have left school) standing around in skimpy saucy bras and knickers (and absolutely nothing else) all trying to entice the punters to give them twenty quid for a lap dance. Once such young lady came up to me, started rubbing her tits up my chest and asked me if I would like to go to a private booth with her. I told her (in all honesty) that I had a daughter who was at least five years older than she was, and that for all that she was a very attractive young lady all I actually waanted was a kebab and a bit of a kip. I donn't think she was at all impessed with that.
I then fell asleep whilst two bare chested teenaged YTS girls licked each other whilst pole dancing.
I was woken to find that I hadn't actually missed much, and we went for that kebab. I do like a kebab. And after completely failing to hail a taxi we walked back to my brother's house wherre we sat in the garden talking rubbish until after 2am.