Saturday’s Partaa – Hit or Miss?
December 11, 2006 5 Comments
After listening to my good partaa music, and getting told that we were leaving at 6.30, not 8 as planned, found the partaa a bit of a miss. All things considered.
But there were consolations. There was a sexy Scot in a Kilt. There was a raffle. There was a raffle for rude prizes. There was unlimited and very cheap alcohol, and free food. There were Christmas decorations. And there were nice people.
Just a shame that their idea of a good night was Now That’s What I Call Music music, pumping from a barely reasonable DJ Setup (flashing lights included) and congregating round the bar. This meant that one half of the room had a DJ (friend of someone at the Diving Club), often on his own and surrounded by a lot of empty floor, and a clump of people spilling alcohol and food between me and the toilet.
The Sexy Scot and His Wife.
He is very yummy. He exudes confidence. I have dreamt about having sex with Sexy Scot. Really. And now I have, I think, discovered what it is.
He has a huge penis. Husband told me – he has seen him getting changed. Huge. Maybe that is what makes him supremely charismatic, a sense of Well, I have no worries on that score.
That’s my theory and I am sticking with it.
Plastic Santa Anyone?
Note the speaker on the stand. I think that’s why no one was dancing – they were scared of knocking the speaker over.
Plus I think the median age was about 60.
And the music was, as mentioned, pretty naff.
Run, Book, Run.
Then I noticed that Plastic Santa was cross with me and was coming to kill me!
(I was a little bit drunk at this point. Cheap alcohol – mentioned above – was becoming cheaper every time I finished a bottle of beer. Or so it seemed. Maybe because my purse was lighter?)
First he lost his car keys whilst diving. These cost £25.00 to get a key made that will just open your door and not have a computer chip to do all those other things. So, £25.00 down and a call to the AA to break into the car. Which they did in about 5 mins – they do that a lot, I guess. Now he has a big clip (which cost £5.00) to hold the keys to his BCD.
Then, on another dive, he had someone else’s keys, but forgot. The search went on for quite a while until, fed up with the You had them last, where the hell are they stuff, gave up the keys to his car and said Go and look yourself then. And lo and behold – in his trouser pocket.
Ah now it’s Raffle Time.
White tickets are for the ordinary raffle. Not a winner among them. The blue tickets are for the adult raffle. The Sexy Scot has, for reasons undiscovered, many many adult toys in his garage. So, every Christmas, he raffles off a number to raise money for the Club.
And finally, home. Where the first thing I did was to power up the computer and play some Partaaa Music. It may have been 1am, and my neighbours may have been asleep (I didn’t check) but after five hours of Now That’s What I Call Music I needed something real.