And indeed it is. I met my next husband last weekend. At Croke Park to be precise. And I know I'm very happily married and he's utterly unobtainable, seeing as he's a quarter of Take That, but bloody hell, I have a serious girlie crush on the divine Mr. Orange. I was never a massive TT fan back in the day, seeing as I was spending most of my waking time in Club 92 & other assorted nightclubs chasing boys/men and the closest relationship I had to TT was throwing shapes around the dancefloor. Until last Saturday night.
I was on my sidekick, the trusty crutch, and accompanied by my two best girlie friends Marge & Monkers (don't worry, they know exactly who they are!) and we set off for Croke Park to lust at the altar of all things Boyband. The omens were good - we had a very very very cute taxi driver who was from Lyon - salut bebe - who got me as close to the Hogan Stand as possible without actually mowing down 110 Gardai who were all standing around looking useless & not directing traffic or anything remotely useful... I managed to eventually find the "medical lift" - best kept secret in Dublin but full of people who were perfectly able to manage the stairs unlike me, so I "had a word" and told them to bugger off & walk. The ladies manning the lift were in knots because they aren't allowed to tell them to bog off. I was in pain & dying for a wee, so I didn't really care. And if they started, I'd just crack the ankles off them with my trusty crutch. Eventually I scaled the heights to my seat in the nosebleed/oxygen mask area only to get a call from Monkers telling me to return to the bar as there was booze waiting for me. Hop, hop, hop to the bar I went for urgent refreshments. We made it back with seconds to spare and then the glory of Take That were revealed.
Actually it was a bloody good concert - fantastic stage show - but the highlight was the sheer glory of Mr. O and his 3 ugly sidekicks giving it socks on stage. I was in lust. Bigtime. I could barely look at the big screen because of the vision of beauty in front of my very own eyes. And the other two beside me were just as bad - I nearly had to send them to time out to calm down... then it was over & I had to hobble from Jones Road down to Marino Mart to get a taxi. The girls could barely keep up with me as my trusty crutch was giving me superpowers of moving through crowds. Shame it didn't last as I was a wreck by the time we got back home. Ah well, nothing that vodka & ibuprofen couldn't cure!