For the first time in a long time, T, D, and I hit the town for a long overdue girls' night of gossip and catching up. We went to a place I like to call Lolita's. Okay I call it that not so much because I enjoy calling it that, but because I always think that's the name of the place and it's not. Still, it will always be Lolita's to me. It's not in the middle of a bunch of bars, so it's a quieter place with a crowd that doesn't attend high school during the weekdays unless they teach there.
I'm pretty sure this event was unprecedented as it was the first time ever that all three of us were out having boyfriends somewhere at home. We are not single, not one of the three of us.
The night lacked mission. It lacked pressure and wanting. In essence, it was what a girl's night out pretends to be and aims to be. It was fun and relaxed. There was no scheming and searching out of the corner of eyes to pluck someone up and make him take a number.
It wasn't exhausting. It was fun. Pure fun. It was catching up and gossiping for the purpose of catching up and gossiping. They each had some martinis and I didn't, especially after taking a quick sniff of one and almost falling over, drunk from the fumes. The bartenders were nice--one went off in search of a drink menu and the other was quick to pour. The latter also looked like a smaller brother version of Ronnie from Jersey Shore. Which led to us talking about the Jersey Shore. Which led to us talking about, well, about things, anything and everything, and it was good.