Hen’s night not so pretty

Hen’s night not so pretty

Ever bought tickets to a show only to realise in the first minute that what you thought you were in for was a little off the mark?

This is what happened to three tables of women celebrating separate hen’s nights at a Pretty Peepers Cabaret Show in Melbourne at the weekend.

Most Sydney homos would be familiar with the inherently queer Pretty Peepers variety nights at our gay institution, The Imperial – drag acts, shock burlesque, dildos, nudity and bizarro performance art. But I think someone forgot to give Victoria the heads up.

The glamorous hens took up the entire front section of the venue flanked by a sea of mainly queer chicks. As soon as they got a face full of host Glitta Supernova’s bum, their facial expressions changed from curious to aghast.

The wedding parties were also perplexed by an act involving a sparkly dildo, and when they got sprayed with watermelon juice after a performer smashed one up on stage, they complained to management.

While the show itself was pretty hit and miss, the people-watching was definitely worth $25. My pals and I got more enjoyment seeing these bewildered girly girls react to a boylesque artist shoving a roast chicken down his crotch, than we did watching the chook get decimated.

At intermission I decided to strike up a conversation with one of the brides, whose guests seemed pretty keen to get the hell out of there. I asked if any of them knew what they were in for, and she said they were simply told it was a circus night.

After complaining, venue staff assured them the circus was still to come so the optimistic bride was reluctant to leave.

Next up was an all-female Italian folk band who belted out ditties filled with queer innuendo. While the lesbians cheered, a table of hens walked.

A posse of triumphant queer girls then cheered even louder and rushed forward to score the good table up the front.

Later on, a performer dressed as a bride tossed a bouquet into the arms of a majorly pissed-off looking hen. My friends and I cracked up as she chucked the plastic flowers aside and stormed out – clearly over it.

I’m not even sure if there was any circus as we left soon after the hens. We had our entertainment fix, even if it wasn’t exactly what we had in mind.

INFO: You can follow Monique Schafter on Twitter @MoniqueSchafter

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