An Ode To The Magnificent “Girls’ Night”

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Girls' Night

One of your friends is down on her luck in some sphere of her life, and she pops the question to the rest of your crew. “You guysss, let’s just have a girls’ night.” A blissful evening of gossip, cheese-filled foods, and enough alcohol to fill a swimming pool lies ahead.

You saddle up for a night of stories, whether it means leaving your yoga pants behind for heels or grabbing your snuggie for the couch. This night is all about supporting a sista in need, whether it’s with alcohol or with TGIF cholesterol-enhancing appetizers. Personally, I live with 14 women, so basically every night is girls’ night. We prefer to get wine drunk and quote Bridesmaids until we pass out, but sometimes we grace the world with our disheveled selves.

There’s always going to be the girl that brings her boyfriend. I don’t want your boyfriend judging me as I analyze “yup” vs. “yeah” texts. And I certainly don’t want him judging me when I eat twice my body weight. STOP bringing your boyfriend. We’re already annoyed by the twenty Instagram photos you post with him. We don’t need to see him in the flesh, too.

There will also always be the girl who makes it super duper clear that this night will not end as a girls’ night. This is probably also the girl who gets a suspiciously older group of gentlemen to buy shots for your table, so appreciate her for always being one step (and one drink) ahead.

As the night progresses, your crew will dissipate like children on a tour of Willy Wonka’s factory. The first girls to go are the outskirt friends. They don’t really bring a whole lot to the table, so you might not even notice. This probably includes someone’s cousin or neighbor and she’s been hitting you with judgey eyes all night. If that outsider wants to scorn me for discussing OTPHJs, she shouldn’t be here, anyway.

The next girl to leave is that boyfriend girl. Or, a slight variation of this. He’s picking her up or she’s meeting him for dinner. Byeeee. Have fun in monogamy while we all make speculations about when you’ll break up.

The remaining girls deserve applause. They are here to stay and are probably your future bridesmaids. I don’t want to spin this into an ode to besties, but the rest of your night is about to be fucking awesome. The last Girls’ Night I had began with casual beers at our local watering hole, until someone said “I’m setting an alarm. Let’s be blacked out by 9.” This turned into “Can I have 12 fireball shots, please?” which turned into singing Timber in an empty bar, which turned into me date-jacking some poor sap for Christmas formal. Whatevz.

You’ve got your classic array of characters here, like the girl who will pour shots down your throat and tell you “You’re sooo much better than he is. You don’t even like him!” Wrong, you did like him, but not as much as you like the shots she’s buying. You’ve got the girl who pregamed like Lindsey Lohan and the girl who has to be the bitter DD. Someone’s going to proclaim they’re on a diet, someone’s going to cry, and someone’s going to give girl power speech.

No matter what type of debauchery makes up your friend group, don’t forget to leave the judgment at home tonight. This mysterious event of a girls’ night shouldn’t be all that mysterious to guys. We need them.

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