It’s finally here… The Weekend!! The past week has been a nightmare, but I made it, and as 5 o’clock rolled around, I certainly had that Friday feeling coursing through my veins.
My three best girlfriends and I had agreed to check out the newest bar in town. Nothing, not even my dominatrix boss, was going to keep me in the office beyond 5pm. Checking that the coast was clear (my boss has a bad habit of creeping out of corners when you least expect it), I legged it out of the office as if I was being pursued by all the hounds of hell.
Jumping into my car, I turned on the radio and made my way home. Just as I reached my front door, I got a text message. It was from my girl Claire. “Hi, sry can’t make it 2nite. Time of the month, bad cramps. Nxt wkend? Hv a gr8 time.”
Feeling a bit disappointed, but glad we’d still have quorum, I started my getting-ready-for-a-girls’-night-out routine. Which goes as follows:
1) Confirm rendezvous time. (7.30pm. Cool)
2) Choose DVD from Sex and The City box set. (Season 4. Perfect for preparations). Place DVD in player and press PLAY.
3) Establish state of hair in case mad-dash to salon necessary. (No need, hair looks fine).
4) Determine outfit, ensuring there’s a Plan B in case a change of mind occurs within the next 45 minutes. (Dark blue jeans, baby pink shirt. Or black jeans, red halterneck. Or maybe denim skirt and baby blue top? Arghh!! Can’t decide. Will pick outfit at last minute just to be sure).
5) Quick shower. Ensure hair stays dry to avoid nightmare Afro-frizz.
6) Glass of wine as contemplate outfits one more time.
7) Watch a bit of Sex and The City and ponder attributes of each outfit a bit longer. (This one accentuates here, but diminishes those bits…)
8) Decide on outfit.
9) Hair and make-up. Throw necessities into handbag, once have decided WHICH handbag to use. (Of course this is determined by WHICH outfit was finally decided on.)
10) Dress up and finish glass of wine. Leave house and do not return until at least 3am.
I was half-way through #3, when Doreen called to say she couldn’t make it tonight because she’s sprained her ankle falling down some stairs. She sounded so sheepish though that I secretly believe she’d chosen a booty call over her friends. (Must be Mr Computer Analyst. She’s always talking about him). Oh well.
Choosing what to wear is always a pain when you’re a girl. You make up all these combinations to vary your wardrobe then realize you can’t decide! I finally decided on the dark blue jeans and the pink top.
I was painting my toenails when my phone beeped. Message from Colette. “Cnt cm, prstn 2mrw at off. Soreee!! Nxt time.” I never understand her text messages so I just had to call her. She answered after the first ring.
Colette doesn’t breathe when she talks.
My big night out was steadily falling apart. Oh well, Miriam and I would still have a blast. I shrugged and made for the door.
Miriam was standing there, in floods of tears.
“Miriam, what’s wrong? What happened?” I ushered her into the house and looked around for a box of tissues.
“He…he…LEFT me!!! F…For his SECRETARY!!!” she broke down again as she collapsed on the sofa.
Oh dear. I could see we weren’t going anywhere. After calming Miriam down, I went to the kitchen and started putting together the Girls’-Night-In Kit, which consists of
1) Wine (lots of)
2) Chocolate (Belgian is PERFECT but any will do. We’re not fussy.)
3) All manner of sugar-rush inducing food.
Complete with all the anti-male, girl-power movies we could get our hands on (Thelma and Louise, Bridget Jones’ Diary, Steel Magnolias etc), we settled in for a wine and chocolate-sodden night.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so well dressed for a night on my own sofa…