Hump day kicked off the weekend. I’d just regenerated from the last one and here we were again. Ever heard of Nicolas Feuillatte? I hadn’t, but it’s the latest Champagne on the shelves, and it launched at Opium last Wednesday. The hype was big and decisive (e.g. Doors locked tight at 8.20pm). Filled with reps and associates it appeared like just another premiere as I entered, but PR company Madant had other ideas, their theme being naked women and performance art. The highlight being when guests were invited to pour coloured paint on the girls, then watch them mix it up by tastefully writhing on each other. When it wound up I went to see Oceania’s best erotic dancer be crowned at Showgirls.

I knew there were a few others in the world going by the code of “Party Marty,” but Showgirls in Auckland was the last place idea expect to see a double. There was a Party Marty 2.0 (with a full head of hair) judging the comp. In a nut-shell 2.0 let the PM name down, coming up well short on the cool-o-metre. The announcer had the odd jab at me and my guide, but I was more focused on the hotties parading before me.

I didn’t want to go out the next night (but my FOMO condition would have none of that negativity). I was furious when I arrived at Chapel and discovered I had left my camera at home. My mood compounded when my dates showed up looking majorly dolled up and I had no way of getting evidence. Nancy, Rebecca, Jessica and Adriana and I enjoyed a couple of drinks there, then moved across the road to PSC. I felt supreme, for once my eyes didn’t stray for one second away from my immediate company. PSC has now acclimatised to the Ponsonby way, so most of the patrons were there for the duration. Unlike normal I was the first to exit, like normal (sadly) it was on my own.

Friday dawned stunningly, blue sky from east to west. I nearly took a photo looking out all my windows and got them enlarged onto canvas, so that when it’s gloomy I can throw open the curtains and feel fab gazing at a perpetually delightful day. Friday stayed dandy till dusk then the heavens opened, but by this time I was safely drinking at Lion-Nathan HQ as they launched a lusty new pink vault, and 9% Billy Maverick RTD (that was aptly impulsively expanded to Ready To Dance for the evening by a certain Mr Bruce). I came a close second in a limbo contest, narrowly missing out on a pink bean-bag, dismayed I moved on to a packed La Zeppa and 2 house parties, gathering people and momentum at every pit stop.

Coco Club was a sweet surprise. Oxana had her birthday there, amassing a great crowd of friends and associates. Onny K did wonders with the retro grooves on the decks and had me inspired, so I took up a previous offer and joined Dougal up at George FM for the 12 – 2am DJ slot. We had a raucous time just managing to stay professional. Come 2am we decided to go till the morning show began at dawn, but auto ad breaks kept on interrupting our mixes so we called it a day and hit up Spy Bar.

Spy was as busy as a Saturday, so we treated it like one. Home time came and went, I wound up in a loft apartment in Parnell being bound in packing tape and my chest waxed. Things got testy so we moved to a more welcoming abode 5 minutes away. Here we stayed and went to great lengths to coax ladies from all walks to come and grace us. We failed in that area, but had a blast along the way.

Saturday was always going to be big, and when night-time rolled around again troops did arrive, boosting energy levels and possibilities. Moving on into town was a good option, I just wanted a place with Sky TV, we found one on the waterfront and settled in. There was one Aussie in the joint and he began to bleat. After half time, we all lost interest in the rugger test, put on booming tunes and attempted to learn “The Melbourne Shuffle”.

Hed Kandi at Asta was the first club stop, we didn’t even stay for a drink. Bang Gang at Code next, that was better. Flight Lounge wasn’t bad, but it was Forte that held me bopping for well over an hour. Pony lacked any sort of kick. However Ink & Coherent up on K Rd captivated me and I didn’t want to leave, the beats from The North Shore Pony Club were funky, fresh and charging, with a good crew on the floor.

It was almost 5 by the time we made it to Spy. But we did manage to catch Amy Ivancic singing live  vocals to classic house. It was her first public appearance and she was sensational, I hear she now wants a pink diamond encrusted microphone.

Soon after she finished the oddest thing happened. A game of spin the bottle subtly began on the main coffee table in the lounge area. Jamie tried to stop the game by taking the Heineken bottle away, but we had a few more lurking. Yes there was the odd same sex connection.

My final party for the week ensued. We did the mass text-out to qualified ladies to pop over, but only got a 20% reply ratio and a 2% arrival rate, but better one than none. Next weekend I’m taking out flyers to hand-out to perfect after-party female attendees, to save hours of toil once the horse has bolted.