And to All a Goodnight

As a Jew, I’m really not as up on my Christmas knowledge as I should be. If I were to hazard a guess, however, I would suspect that this coming week is full of good cheer, Yule hams and Yule logs (whatever those are), off-key sing-a-longs, and endless lines at the mall while you wait to return those holiday hand towels and the ice cream flavored body scrub (a gift I once actually received) from Aunt Edna. As a result, many of you, my adoring followers, will be entirely preoccupied. Here now then is an abbreviated tale about what happens when I find myself engaged in a one of those evenings where my friends and I make blanket statements like, “Who needs a guy anyway?”, sentimentally referred to as the notorious Girls Night Out. 

A couple of years after college, I took a twenty-four hour trip to visit my friends who were still stuck in the Greatest City in America (for those of you who don’t frequent the fair city of Baltimore, this happens to be the tagline emblazoned on all the benches that border the crack house lined streets). I drove down from New York City, miraculously found a parking spot, and my two best girl friends and I headed out to a bar called Thirsty Dog. We met up with a bunch of our friends from school, some girl projectile puked in the booth next to us, and enjoyed literally dozens of half-sized beer glasses (see below). We moved on to another, dancey type of bar next door, where I insisted the DJ play Usher and all my college friends who usually had nothing to do with one another suddenly became BFF. It was, by all measures, one of the greatest nights I’d had in a long time.

When we three girls got back to my friend’s house though, we realized the inflatable mattress had gone a-missing. I altruistically offered to sleep on the miniature love seat. “There’s no way you can fit on that tiny thing!” my friends squawked. “Of course I can!” I retorted, waving them off. And to prove it, as we entered the living room, I took a flying leap for the love seat, but due to a slight miscalculation, I missed the piece of furniture completely and hit the floor with an extremely loud THWACK. While I gripped my whole body in pain, the three of us laughed for a solid thirty minutes. 

The next morning I woke up with my entire left side black and blue and as the littlest spoon in a double bed with two of my best friends. Extremely heterosexually speaking, it was, by all accounts, pretty much the best date and/or morning after I’ve had. 

Ever.