Commy wonders whether the death knell has sounded for the term, ‘Stag Night’.
One night to prepare a man in his prime for a lifetime of monogamous co-habititation? One night to perform the obligatory male bonding rites? The answer is that these days it is nowhere near enough. How is it possible to travel to some European hot spot, famed for its cheap booze and even cheaper women, when only one night is on offer? How can all the ritual humiliations that have to be heaped on the groom be undertaken when there is such a short timeline? Obviously a weekend is the minimum requirement and not only that; it must take place well in advance of the actual marriage ceremony … if only to allow the groom’s eyebrows to grow back and for the full course of antibiotics to kick in.
Commy’s own experience of attending one of these stag weekends has come to be know as the ‘Lost Weekend.’ It was Amsterdam and it was Autumn; the rest is a blur. Did he enjoy himself? He thinks so! And the reason why it is now referred to as the Lost Weekend and has assumed almost mythical proportions in the minds of his fellow stags?
When he left Amsterdam and its famed red light district, Commy left behind some things that can never be replaced.
- his wallet
- his watch
- his passport
- and of course, his dignity! (Dignity he said! NOT virginity!)