“Do you have plans for Friday night?” she texts me on a Tuesday.
“Obviously,” I think. “I just don’t know what they are yet.”
In reality, I just avoid answering until I get trapped in person. You see, I know what’s coming. She wants to have a “Girls’ Night.”
Girls’ Night is one of the biggest social clichés. It’s built up to be one of the most anticipated nights of a lady’s week, or month, or life. My point is that it’s made out to be this fabulous night where you and all of your friends get together, fabulously dressed, and you forget about all of your troubles for one evening. There’s food. There’s wine. There’s your BFFs. What more could a girl need?
Here’s the thing. Like almost everything else, girls’ nights are not nearly as “fabulous” as they sound. Not even close. In reality, the nights are over-planned and forced and are really only meant to be for wives, mothers, and girls who never go out. The conversation centers around boyfriends or boy problems, which is ironic since the whole point is to “forget about boys for a night.”
I honestly don’t enjoy them. Don’t get me wrong, I have a plenty of gal pals. This isn’t supposed to be girl-hating. But these friends go out with me on the regular, so we don’t need to plan these big events to see one another.
Girls’ Nights, though, require promising to block out one of my precious weekend nights to get over-dressed, sip on over-priced drinks, and talk about nothing that I’m interested in. And that, frankly, gives me anxiety. (Granted, all of this happens when it’s friends of friends inviting me, and we all know how horrible that is.) More likely than not, I’ll be the drunkest one there, saying something that someone will find offensive in some way, and I, for one, would like to keep my semi-decent reputation intact.
You could counter, “Well, Regina, you could just suck it up and stop being a drunk bitch.” I could, but when the “Girls” are married (or in serious relationships) while single-you and your other single-drunk-bitch-friend are the only other ones there, the roles are clear. We’re so out of place.
Maybe one day, I’ll be responsible, have to schedule social events days in advance, and fit in with the “Girls’ Night” crowd. But I’m just not there yet.
Instead, I’m busy writing this while avoiding another “Girls’ Night” text. .
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