City Nights and Hangover Days….

I love a good night out…always did, but my new-found freedom renewed my love of a girls night out…I love all of it..the “what are you wearing” phone calls and the large glass of “getting ready wine” and loud and lively music to set the mood. This week has been a busy one.my daughters birthday celebrations started on Tuesday with an entertaining dinner party and finished with us arriving on the 6.50 pm train into Liverpool Street station for a large night out!. Talking of large I  entertained the girls with tales of the hot date I had enjoyed on Thursday with a TB I had met locally who had muscles to die for and a big personality that matched his triceps, Yum!.  As I said a busy week.  Climbing the steps to our starting point Corney and Barrow on Broadgate we get settled with a nice glass of champers while we wait for the last two girls to arrive..the drink is flowing and by the time we leave to go to the next bar we are already well on our way to being drunk in charge of our stilettos! I know this because I went to the bar to get my round and having checked what everyone wanted I promptly forgot e very single drink apart from mine of course!..This was partly due to a suited and booted vision at the bar engaging me in conversation but rather than go back I just ordered a round of zambuka  shots!. The girls, Kate Laura, Chloe, Olivia and Jane all grimace in unison as I took them back my offering and groaning grinning and swallowing all  at once  down went the firewater on the count of three. If there was any hint of sobriety left it was immediately shown the door as the shot took immediate effect! Giggling loudly and with our heels  clip clopping through the station we headed out into the night and off to find  a black cab. Let the dancing commence !!. Travelling the short distance to Revolution on Leadenhall Street the six of us piled into the club and head to the bar Again! with drinks in hand we descend to  the dance floor.  The music is loud and there’s a good crowd..its not long before we get separated and we are all busy chatting to guys and there is a bit of random snogging!. It’s a big place and losing everyone I go back up stairs to locate my friends knowing that the most likely place  to find them will be the smoking area outside. On the way up I pass a rather tall and gorgeous Doorman. Revolution seems to employ not only the largest of the species but also the best looking. I had noticed this before  and when we took part in the filming our episode of HTMD  they filmed me chatting one up and here I go again.. it would seem  They always act in a professional manner and never cross the line however tempted.  Rather liking the one before me I engage him in conversation (most of which is in slurred speak) and then giving him my number I go out side. The smoking area is full to the brim and my friends as I thought are there puffing away. Looking at out watches we realise we need to get back to the station if we are to catch the last train home having decided that two cabs was going to prove too expensive, as we live in different areas. So the mad rush back begins…London is a wonderful place and as we leg it back to the station im not too drunk to admire its night-time beauty the historical buildings peppered amongst the large and imposing new ones all lit up like Christmas trees and reaching into the heavens!. The conversation as always turns to the desperate need for food..eating something fattening and unhealthy is as much a part of the evening as the Zambukas!!. Running into the station we don’t have time to stop at the very strategically placed Macdonald’s and having missed our last train we have to get one to Chingford.  The journey only gives our stomachs time to churn more and as soon as we get into the cab at the other end we are berating the driver to find us an open Maccy Dees.  He s happy to help and listening intently to our conversation as we dissect the evening he finds us a drive through. (it never fails to amaze me that they find people to work all night at these places but our stomachs are very grateful)  By now we all have our shoes off   (long with the Zambukas and the Macdonalds painful feet are also the sign of a good evening.) Suddenly the cab stops, we are half a mile from home and they have shut the bloody road..with no other choice we have to get out and walk..shoes in one hand and trying to stuff the chips in our mouths with the other we start to climb the hill.  Having stepped out into the cold night air the need to pee becomes acute…with a 15 minute walk ahead there no option than to find a bush..deep joy!.   Bundling into the flat with the remnants of our food  and laughing loudly we flop onto the sofa. Its been a great night and exhausted and happy we crawl into bed. My phone suddenly pings indicating i have a message…OOH goody, it’s from the handsome doorman…and with the thought of him and the possibilities ahead..I pass out!.