#60 Girls' Night In

So it's Friday night.  Our girlfriends are rallying.  If it's a "who, what, wear" kinda night, maybe it'll be sushi and sake followed by drinks at the new hotel bar.  Or tapas and sangria, and then drinks at the other new hotel bar.

However, it's also the end of an arduous work week spent in high-waisted pencil skirts or slacks and pointy-toed office pumps.  The last thing we want to do is apply glue and false lashes to our eyelids, put on special underwear, squeeze into a cocktail dress and tiptoe around town in 5" YSL platform sandals.

Certainly by now, most single girls understand both the merits and disadvantages of a girls' night out (or GNO). On the positive side, many of our epic drinking tales are a result of the shenanigans, mischief and mayhem derived from a girls' night out. And what single girl doesn't enjoy a good chortle retelling such stories?

If the intent and mission of a GNO is to "meet guys," some single girls neglect to realize the size of their party is indirectly proportional to the level of success in meeting said guys.  With these expectations, failure to meet a definite caliber of male on a night out could lead to some, if not total, disappointment.

For example, when a large group of girls heading out to a bar together collide with a comparable group of dudes, one would hope this to be an opportune turn of events - until it resembles a junior high school dance in the cafeteria with boys on one side of the room sneaking fidgety glances at girls on the other side of the room.

Ladies, it's a simple formula of proportion and mathematics: we all know it's easier for two guys to approach two girls, not two guys to eight girls (much to everyone's chagrin).  Unfortunately, a girls' night out can become a complete clam jam session when too many women are involved.

Albeit, there are those nights where we abandon "Operation: Man Hunt" because we're not in the right mood to potentially meet the man of our dreams at a bar.  Maybe we're feeling bloated, maybe our favorite dress is at the dry cleaner's, or maybe we're just totally over "girls' night out."  (Gasp!  How could this be?)

These are the nights we step out of the house in leggings and tastefully oversized t-shirts with our favorite accessory (a bottle of wine) and head over to a girlfriend's house.  If she's the Martha Stewart of the group, she will have a lasagna, casserole or something equally starchy baking in the oven.  Otherwise, it's most likely she fake cooked or ordered take-out from somewhere calorically fantastic.

It's no wonder why single girls like "girls' night in."  Benefits include opening that fifth bottle of wine (when there are only four of us) AND indulging on a third piece of lasagna with nobody (really) judging us.  (And the fact that we showed up in elastic waistbands is no coincidence.)

The ability to converse on certain topics in the privacy and safety of someone's home is quite liberating (especially after that fifth glass of wine).  We can talk about birth control (because abstinence is not an option), Brazilians (not the people), penises (yes, we compare notes), blow jobs (yes, we share techniques) and battery-operated "boyfriends." 

We can exchange bad date stories, deliberate about the guys we're seeing or gossip about former sorority sisters without worrying about a bartender, waiter, busboy or stranger overhearing our blunt, and often bawdy, exchange.  Unfortunately, when a specific person is being discussed in public, there is always a chance that someone within earshot is acquainted with the subject, specifically in a small town such as Los Angeles.

Another advantage of girls' night in?  We can have our cake, and eat two.  Carpe noctem!