Yorkie bar
Vegas, eat your heart out. Clover and I managed to confound our doubters by organising a hen night in Dubai without a) getting arrested; b) any of the girls having a cat fight; c) anyone passing out. 28 women, 1 bus, 5 venues, 8 hours, starting with Trader Vics in Crowne Plaza. Keeping it old skool, we took in the delights of Carters (private dining room to keep us away from the regular punters), Rock Bottom and Jimmy Dix.
Several men got mistaken for strippers by the girls, but they ran away before they could be abused by screeching women.
Midway round, we also passed an eye-opening 30 minutes in a club in Bur Dubai (the less said the better). Piling out of the bus, there were a few bemused faces as we piled into the hotel, looking for "the hooker bar". Having been pointed upstairs by the doorman, the Red Sea parted as we entered. Ladies of negotiable affection tried to intimidate us - 'twas their turf after all - while the men looked out for fresh meat. Half an hour later, duly fuelled by Flaming Lamborghinis, we left.
Several men got mistaken for strippers by the girls, but they ran away before they could be abused by screeching women.
Midway round, we also passed an eye-opening 30 minutes in a club in Bur Dubai (the less said the better). Piling out of the bus, there were a few bemused faces as we piled into the hotel, looking for "the hooker bar". Having been pointed upstairs by the doorman, the Red Sea parted as we entered. Ladies of negotiable affection tried to intimidate us - 'twas their turf after all - while the men looked out for fresh meat. Half an hour later, duly fuelled by Flaming Lamborghinis, we left.
posted by snow white at 8:43 PM
1 Comments:
It's located in Bur Dubai, in a hotel that has the same name as a British city ... And the affection is negotiable, for sure.
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