In hindsight deciding to pole dance on New Years Eve was not one of my better ideas, neither was using a lamp post as a substitute for the pole. But the straw that broke the camels back was the fact I picked a traffic island slap bang in the middle of Shaftsbury Square as my stage.
It is true what they say, ‘when the drink’s in, the wit is out.’ I will be forever grateful to the policeman some kind member of the public sent to assist me, for sharing that little gem of wisdom, although I still think his use of handcuffs was unjustified. Was it my fault he walked into my handbag just as I was preparing to land.
By the time 1am came I had been separated from the other members of my party posse. Happily drunk, but not to the point where I had no clue about the where, what and whys, I experienced a rush of self satisfaction when I made it into the kebab shop and was able to successfully place an order. A large kebab on pitta, all the trimmings, no sauce. Had I realised at that time that about 15 minutes later I would be using most of it to accessorize my rather delightful outfit, I might have just ordered a chip instead. Thinking about it now, that may have been why the lamp post was so slippery.
It was at this point I saw my friend Onda Poole, one of the aforementioned posse. She was halfway up a dark alley and looked to be in the midst of a struggle. Shouting her name I headed, I was going to say straight across the street, but it was more of a zig zag. Her hand moved in what I, at the time perceived to be a ‘come help me’ gesture, but the closer I got I realised it was meant to be more of a ‘feck off’ one. It seemed for my good friend there was more than kebab on the menu that night.
Never one to be outdone I spied the lamp post and seizing the opportunity to grab the attention of not only Onda and he with the wandering hands, but of everyone in the street, I started to climb. It seemed like such a good idea at the time and was certainly a crowd pleaser as everyone was laughing at with me. A few even started to clap their hands.
Egged on by the support I was receiving I inched my way further up the post. It was bloody freezing and I remember thinking to myself how glad I was to have worn the granny pants I had received from my Mammy at Christmas.It’s not easy trying to scale something the same size as Mount Everest whilst keeping your dignity in check. Apparently I failed as there was a roar of laughter from the crowd right after I heard some wee hood shout ‘Nice knickers!.’
It was at this point that things started to unravel, quite literally. As I turned to give the body attached to the voice a two fingered salute, I started, against my will might I add, to slide down the post. Unfortunately my woolie Christmas jumper decided to remain attached and snagged onto a huge (honestly it was) hook that I had thankfully avoided on both my ascent and now rapid descent.
It was also around this time I spotted the approaching policeman and in an attempt to distract Onda from her game of tonsil tennis and gain some much needed help I started to frantically wave my arms. I now understand why blokes call us ‘birds’, because I looked just like a mental seagull, flapping and squawking atop a lamp post.
Of course I tipped backwards and of course I was still turning at the time and of course my handbag was in my hand and in full flight when that silly policeman decided to walk into it. Now at the bottom, someone from the crowd helped me to my feet whilst copping a cheeky feel of my ample backside and there I stood, red faced and in a half top that made me look like a reject from that band Pepsi and Max, no wait that’s a drink, Pepsi and Shirlie.
A heated debate followed,with the attending Constable, as I tried to blame everyone, including the kitchen sink for the events of the evening. Even Onda, whose lips looked like they had gone 3 rounds with a plunger, came over to offer what I thought was going to be assistance. Instead she bid me a fond farewell, muttering that I had really done it this time.
The rest of the evening is a bit of a blur, I think I fell asleep as soon as they put me in my cell, but I did get a ride in a police car! :)
17 thoughts on “May Dupp: New Years Eve!”
I’ve never riden in a police car… May sounds like a blast!! :) Great story.
Thank you, I think vicariously through May I will be doing a lot of firsts lol
The mental seagull, haha, I could totally see that happening! :D
And o, for this to be real… ;)
Lol I have this fear that others are not going to find May as funny as I do!
Imagine having the kind of confidence to climb a lamp post in the middle of a busy street lol
I don’t fully exclude that possibility… You never know what the future brings! ;)
lol very true! You better make sure you tell us all about it if you do!
Haha I don’t know, I like to keep some things secret! :D
(But I’ll send a mail to you or something ;) )
Sounds like a plan! lol
Haha! This is perfect! :3
I’m glad you liked it :)
I sense I may like May! Great reference to 80s Wham backing singers who went on to have a one hit wonder of their own. Can’t wait for the next outing!
I’m glad you enjoyed it :)
Thanks for letting me camp out in your blog for a little while today. I had a great time and tried to leave my campsite as good as when I arrived. I’ll be back!
P.S. I would have left you a LIKE on six posts but LIKE buttons are not working for me on blogs with a URL that ends with wordpress.com……..:(
You know you’re always more than welcome! I’ve been having the same problems, I can read on my reader fine but the like never seems to load. It’s really annoying.
I hope you and Jim had a lovely Christmas and a Happy New Year to you both :) xx
ohhh helll …. ya Eejit! I’m so glad you invited May Dupp into your blog because I’m sitting here dying of laughter.
Okay – TRUTH — I’ve been sneezing every 3 minutes and honking the hooter ‘cos I must have put too much pepper on me supper … and so … sneeze honk sneeze honk sneeze honk — roaring laughter – side splitting roaring laughter —- snelaughhh sneeeeeeeze — and like what happened???
I can;t believe I’m going to say this — here and now —- but bloody hell woman —- I peed my knickers. Seriously. Peed. My. #$$% Knickers.
And not just a little wee ‘o’ pee.
Hell – I didn’t even know I had to pee.
Thanks heaps May Dupp — I’m now doing laundry and it’s after 10pm — but it was so worth the laughter!
I’m glad you liked it. I wasn’t so sure about her, but I have all these great things I’d like to write and I never do them, so though she could be a useful addition.
If she can make you wee pee your pants then I am on the right track lol
May is certainly a prized treasure – and yeah, damn it – to catch me *that* off guard – well hell, well done May!