Girls nights out, girls nights in, girls nights with a fox in a box on a train. All these things can be oh so good. Yesterday I talked about my top ten things I love about a good reenactment of “Sex and the City” with your besties. Now I want to expose the underbelly of pain that can accompany a Girls Night Out, so that you men can understand the stress girls can go through in order to have a good time. And girls….commiserate with me :).
Things that can be lame about trying to have a good time:
Getting ready.While this is also one of the most
fun things, it can also make you intensely miserable. You are sure you are fat. You have a zit. You are sure you smell. All the girls who will be there will be hotter than you. Which is why getting ready is generally best accomplished with a drink in the hand that is not applying your mascara and texting your friends questions about what they’re wearing. “What to wear” is something girls can panic about, especially if they are alone or unfamiliar with the location or crowd they will be interacting with.
So for me, this meant texting my sister pictures of every outfit I could manage to pull together, OCD curling and recurling the same sections of hair, and wailing on my couch to no one about how fat I felt and wishing someone was there to laugh at Spanx with me.
Creepers. When I go out, I am constantly scanning the room for men that possess genes that would mix well with my own. I prefer them to be at least half of a non-white race, because I really like ethnic looking children. They should also have great teeth and good hair, and be tall enough that I can fit my head under their chin. Personalities we shall figure out later. It is fantastic when you meet someone with ideal genetic makeup to create your super babies with. What is anti fantastic are the ones who don’t meet your criteria, who are also what?holes, who always seem to scout you out and be unable to leave you alone.
Last night, I had such a one. I called him “Mr. Russia” because Russia was indeed his motherland. He came to me immediately at the bar and offered to buy me a drink. Being that he was Russian, I asked for a vodka tonic out of respect. We chatted for a while, and then I went back to dance with my girls. An hour later, he found me again, and I asked him what brought him to the US of A, and he started talking about traveling and kept saying “I’ve been all over the world, do you know what that means?” and I was like “yeah and I’m not impressed, as I too have done some traveling, Sir Conceited A Lot.” Then he started American-hating, which I can get rowdy about, too, but oh H to the No when someone from somewhere else hates on my people. H to the NO. Then we got in a mini fight and I took off again. Then again he somehow found me as we were hailing a cab (quite unsuccessfully) and asked to take me out on a date! I gave him my number….minus the last digit. :) Take that around the world, SnobbyPants McGee.
Restaurants that are lame. I love going out to new places, but the problem with new places is that you never know what you’re gonna get. Take last night for example…Birthday Girl Jen made a reservation for us at 9pm, and they even made her give a credit card number to hold the reservation. But we didn’t get seated until 10pm, which with a bunch of smokin hot girls buying birthday drinks and not pre-snacking…this led to some feisty. Then they didn’t have enough room for us. The service was terrible, food came out at wrong times, bartender straight up told me “I forgot about your drink” 15 minutes after I had placed an order, and then pawned me off on someone else without an apology. This was not cool. What was COOL was that Leslie is super connected in the industry and got SUPER professional on them and made them cut our bill in half, then she and the manager exchanged hugs and “I love yous” and we went on our merry way! And in the end, even the subpar servicio couldn’t prevent the awesome conversations we were having and catching up on all the crazy.
Recovery. I am (mostly) out of the stage of partying
so hard that it actually hurts the next morning. But there ar aspects that are inescapable, or the pains that you feel on behalf of others….ie the blisters we incur, the missing credit cards, the missing phones….the crazy search through all your things for said missing items…
For me this morning it was hauling bags of clothes I never ended up wearing down five blocks to make sure my car wasn’t ticketed or towed, and then trying to find a gas station, and then getting harassed by homeless teens. I drove an hour home and then studied.
Now I finish this post at a Girls Night IN! They are watching the end of a movie I’ve not read the book of yet, so I don’t want to ruin it for myself. Dana is congratulating herself for drinking wine, which she never does. And we’ve spent about an hour figuring out the correct velocity and arch and distance to toss grapes into each other’s mouths…we’ve been watching “Something Borrowed” and drinking copious amounts of wine and bitching about life and looking at wedding photos and my favorite quote is “I fell in the dishwasher today.”
I’m tired but its fun. Viva la vida.