Hen Night Security

When Gwen announced her engagement, I didn’t need to be asked to be her Maid of Honour – it was assumed. At least I hope it was, otherwise the last few months have been incredibly awkward and I didn’t even realise it. But even if I was wrong to assume I’m sure I changed Gwen’s mind, because I rocked the most awesome Bachelorette Hen Night ever.

I know Gwen. I know she’s a sweetheart, an innocent lass who has been in a state of continuous shock ever since the moment she met me. I love her like a sister, and I’ve learned over the years to respect who she is – she’s not the sort who wants a sweaty man gyrating in her face, and she’s not seeking illicit adventures. Her idea of fun is truly and honestly a rented movie, some microwave popcorn, and me on the phone with her, watching the same movie and having an ongoing conversation about it. When we were younger I tried to drag her into the dark side with me: Dive bars, whiskey shots, dirty dancing. She tried – oh how she tried – but midnight always found her napping at the table, simply unable to stay awake.

We’re older now, and I’ve learned to just let her be. And this was her wedding, so I knew better than to try to put together the sort of Hen Night I would want. For Gwen, I hired a limousine to drive us around because I knew it would get her all a-giggle, bought us all tickets to see her favourite group in concert, made dinner reservations at a fantastic restaurant, and put together the sort of Gift Bags that have made me famous for my party planning. My gift bags are so good even the sober folks love them.

I’d gotten in all the supplies for the Gift Bags when I realised my one major error: The bags. We were going to a concert, and most of the items were designed to be used at the concert. But security would never let us in with tote bags full of stuff. For a moment I thought I’d boxed myself into a corner. But then I had what my dear Dad, the chess player, would call a ‘brilliancy’: Clear bags! Specifically, the Photo Tote Bag. I had pictures of all of us printed out, and instantly had the perfect Gift Bags: Big enough for all the goodies I’d acquired, clear for security to wave us through the turnstile, and personalised with a photo! Thus I’d come full circle from Party Genius to Party Fail to Party Genius again.

The Hen Night was a huge success, and the next day I cried a little as Gwen got hitched. And then made some personal party history at her reception, but that’s a whole other story.