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How to survive a stag weekend if you're the Best Man and a girl...

Updated on September 8, 2010


Just be yourself

When my brother asked me to be his best man a few months ago I was pleased and honoured, and all of those things. But then the time came to organise the Stag Do, and the nerves set in. I spent quite a lot of time worrying, and, dare I say, stressing (I don't usually get stressed, but this one has tested my limits!) about breaking one of the prime Laws of the Stag: the Law of No Girls! I am not a girly girl, and I have always been a tomboy. But when we began to discuss plans, and I realised that not only was I going to have to organise the Stag Do, but that I was also going to have to participate in it, I became very girly indeed. I badgered my brother many times, suggesting to him that it might not be the best idea for me to take part in the booze-and-general-debauchery-fest, sometimes pleading with him to let me off. But he was always steadfast in his refusal to entertain any idea of my staying at home while he be subjected to who knew what horrors that might be thought up by his friends. All of my femininity began to come to the surface, and I found myself growing more and more timid by the day. I began to get palpitations at the mention of anything to do with stags/deer/beer/curly blonde wigs/charity shop flowery dresses, and discussions about possible manly-bonding activities had me sweating. I just absolutely knew that on this stag weekend I would embarrass myself by being girly, and I would annoy all the stags and make them wish that they'd stayed at home.

Something had to be done, I had to sort myself out. I sat myself down, and I had a conversation, with myself. Linda, I said, you really need to get some perspective. I said, what has happened to your blokishness? I don't know, I replied, it disappeared when I realised that I'd have to flaunt it. Well, I said, you're going to have to find it again, because without it you're doomed. Gasp, I replied, you really think it's that serious? Yes, I said, it's that serious, so get out there and find your balls!

That chat made me feel a lot better, and it was then that I decided that I would do what I'd always done in the company of fellas in the past - I would be myself. It had always worked before, and it was all I had. I would just have to hope that it wouldn't let me down this time.

When it came to the actual booking of activities and accommodation and restaurants I had to employ my girl's organisational skills, and make full use of my girl's ability to multi-task (some men can multi-task you know, it's quite amazing to see!). After that I allowed by blokishness to reign free. It's there in me all the time, but I allowed myself to take off its shackles.

These are the things I learned over my weekend as a man:

  • It's good to burp infront of strangers.
  • It's very liberating and funny to swear in vulgar and crude ways, and to laugh at other people doing the same.
  • Swearing is definitely a useful and imaginative way to make use of the English language, and people who swear a lot are cool.
  • Being offended by nakedness and/or sexual references and/or innuendos is for girls.
  • Eating steak and chips, and hot chicken wings, and burgers with your beer is very satisfying.
  • Paintballing hurts, but it's very funny, and very manly.
  • Quad biking is one of the most excellent ways to spend a spare forty minutes.
  • Talking about the sizes of engines, alloy wheels, bhp, and quantities of cylinders can be fun.
  • Looking at the bottoms of waitresses is perfectly acceptable in certain establishments.
  • Going to lap dancing clubs is not shameful.

But the most important thing that I learned was this:

  • Being a girl at a stag weekend is acceptable, and said girl does not need to pretend to be a man at all.

Being a girl-Best-Man on a stag weekend was actually one of the loveliest experiences I have had in my little sheltered life, and I would heartily recommend it to any ladies. Unfortunately, not many ladies are as lucky as me in having a brother who would consider them for this important role. I am sad for most ladies.

This weekend I think I took a few refresher modules from the BA in Life Lessons. Letting oneself go, relaxing, preventing uptightness from taking a firm grip, taking oneself much less seriously and going with the flow: these are philosophies that allow wonderful things to happen in one's life, and allow a person to enjoy new and enriching experiences. Thank goodness I didn't chicken out, and thank goodness I didn't stay home with a good book for a change.

Disclaimer: all comments regarding girliness and manliness, however sexist they may appear, are made in a purely tongue-in-cheek manner, and should not be taken seriously!


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    • attemptedhumour profile image

      attemptedhumour 7 years ago from Australia

      She's sixty now so climbing trees is a distant memory. I'm multi-tasking at the moment, sitting on the sofa and typing at the same time, didn't i mention that I'm a genius too?

      My sister was good at telling lies, you two seem like you have a lot in common apart from age. I attended a writer's group for six years, i know, it didn't help did it? You might be a bit young for one but i really enjoyed it, learnt a lot and would recommend it to any aspiring writer. Put it in your diary for future reference. Right I'm off see yer.

    • Lady Wordsmith profile image

      Linda Rawlinson 7 years ago from Lancaster, UK

      I don't know what multi-tasking is, I'm actually not very good at it! (See, I've said before that I tell lies - never trust a word I say.)

      Ah, sadly no mobbing occurred on our stag do - I wonder how I would have fared. Tomboys rule though. Does your sister like climbing trees too?

    • attemptedhumour profile image

      attemptedhumour 7 years ago from Australia

      What's multi-tasking again? Now that hub wasn't long or short was it? My sister, the one who was on the bike on Morcombe sands came to my Stag night. Her reasoning was that she didn't want to talk about babies and baking all night and didn't want to be bored to death. She's a bit of a Tomboy too with a handy right cross. You would learn a lot from witnessing a mob of drunken men in action and amasingly found it a positive experience. Give that brother of yours a great big pat on the back. Cheers another well written hub.