Lads, stags, glad rags

We’ve played five gigs over the last week, and there’ve been stag dos at every single one of them. Ordinarily, we’d try to avoid this. Stag dos have a bad reputation for being drink fuelled displays of masculinity, woefully manifesting themselves in oikish behaviour and lewd comments aimed at passing females. As a woman in my twenties, I normally bear the brunt of this sort of “banter” on account of my position on the stage and characteristic low cut top.
Nevertheless, over the last week I have found that stag dos can be quite civilised affairs. The first group, whose names I have forgotten, were clearly only at the venue to talk to one another and were slightly peeved by the arrival of a band, several hundred watts of amp and an enormous crowd of fans. Still, they clapped with the rest of the crowd and not once did they mention my chest.
The following day, the stag do was a bit rowdier. We were playing in the smoking area of an extremely popular pub, and these lads had clearly been drinking since around noon. Still, they could remember their names (and each other’s) when they introduced themselves and were very receptive of our more upbeat numbers. According to security, three of them bought the CD.
The last three stag dos were of a similar standard. Drunken, yes, but ultimately well behaved. I think that the idea of the stag do being the night before the wedding isn’t popular anymore, but it is probably still worth staying in the good books of your bride to be.
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