This weekend I got a msg from Joan, a match on Tinder, 'If you can handle three hungover women, come meet us at Woodpecker Hill.'
I sat down and met everyone — Joan (the match), Paula and Tara. Joan had a deep tan and flippin' fabulous ring. They asked me what I felt about group dates? I said it was probably more fun than 1-on-1. There was a friendly brunch vibe, one of those relaxed hangovers where everyone has shed a few layers. Apparently Paula had invited a guy to a group date (Tuesday night jazz at Orleans!) and he'd managed to piss her off in the first five minutes, didn't talk to any of her friends for 2 hours, and generally wasn't much fun.
I arrived at the end of brunch. Paula was trying to order a bespoke hot chocolate. She asked for it to be sprinkled with cinnamon — not possible, no cinnamon in the kitchen. Then she asked for it to have peppermint liqueur in it — no peppermint liquer. I'm not sure if Paula is harsh normally, but she sure is when she's hungover. The harassed waitress was clutching at straws — 'how about Baileys?' 'Oh, just put Frangelico in it!' said one of our party said. The drink arrived in three shot glasses, next to an empty coffee cup on a silver platter; the manager said it was 'build your own.' Sadly the hot chocolate part was absent, they'd given her a coffee shot instead. To her credit Paula didn't send it back.
They mentioned that they had to go back to Golden Dawn, because Joan had left her cardy there last night. I asked what time they were there? Someone had come up to me on the dancefloor and asked, 'Is your name Dre?' I had thought that person were taking the piss out my dancing, but it turns out it had been Joan!
They mentioned they also needed to go shopping in Ponsonby. 'What shop', I said. OML, they were going to a sex shop!
Around this time I went to the bathrooms. 5-star, they are sooo romantic at Woodpecker Hill. Only candles for lighting, you can barely see what you're doing but won't ever smell of farts. Dark wood and tiles, and basins made out of natural crystal.
I needed to go to Ponsonby too, so I asked to get a lift with them. On the way Paula started arranging Joan's 6 o'clock Tinder date. Joan asked Paula to make a reservation. Paula asked why he wasn't making the reservation, and said, 'I'm so sick of organising inept guys.' She turned to me, 'sorry I forgot you were back there...'
We parked round the corner from D*Vice (a sex shop) and Joan said, 'what are You doing now?'