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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required We're grouped together ready to party just standing around waiting for the coach. Not a stag do exactly, just us men. Before you ask, it wasn't fancy dress. A football Friday night out for a drink, one or two, possibly looking for sex. I certainly wasn't looking for sex, no women allowed in this lad’s party. Tam who’s just arrived is getting a drink, he’s our mate and first team footballing coach. Back from a wedding rehearsal; full dress. So he’ll be glad; being back amongst the men. We arrive at a pub heaving with men; just a handful of the opposite sex. God knows who came up with this shit address. It isn’t lively enough to party. We agree that we’ll get back on the coach, however, Tam bought us all one more drink. At the next pub I get the lads a drink, ‘Okay,’ I say to them, ‘It’s my round, men,’ and hand three pints of lager to the coach. My thoughts absentmindedly turn to sex, when I look towards a crowded hen party and see a girl in a skimpy red dress. ‘Check out the girl, in the little red dress,’ I say to Liam, passing him his drink. ‘I’d love to get an invite to that party.’ ‘Aye well, you, me, and the rest of the men; thoaght you wurny interested in sex?’ he says, as we watch her approach the coach. It’s half past two; the last round’s on the coach. He’s fondling the girl, his hands up her dress. ‘Jesus man, go outside if you want sex,’ I say, ‘It’s your round; last orders for drink. I’ll be up there with the rest of the men.’ The bar closes; it’s the end of the party. I board the coach with the rest of the men. It was a good party, plenty to drink, and Tam’s having sex wearing the red dress.
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