The Rain In Spain Stays Mainly In The Plain

With little thought or preparation, and completely against my regular routine, I went to Ladies' Night at a HUGE bar here in Atlanta. My motives were pure: to get my friends some nookie.

Let me explain: I have inherited my husband's friends. When he and I married, he painfully tore away from a tight-knit circle of friends who were instantly suspicious of me, my intentions, our quickie marriage, and the prospects we had for success. It took a few years for them to come around . . . and these days, I have earned a place of respect among them. Now that our kids are past the baby stage, we are getting out a little more often, and we see these guys at trivia every week.

Now, Wednesday night is Trivia Night. Every Wednesday, we gather together to pick our brains, eat wings, and win money. We generally walk away with 1st ($125) or 2nd ($50). Its fun, there are lots of laughs, some excruciating moments when we bang our heads on the table in exasperation over the trivia, and there is a little time in between questions to shoot the shit, and often the conversation turns to women. More pointedly, the lack of women. The puzzling thing about this crew is that they are all single. Painfully single. Single with no prospects of female companionship of any kind.

All of these guys are in their thirties. All of them are gainfully employed, drug-free, polite, funny, interesting, attractive and straight. They have all expressed an interest in "finding good women". They have lamented that they never seem to cross paths with any eligible, approachable females. I pointed out that they tend to hang out in places that females avoid, and that they have to go where the women are, i.e. Ladies Night. So, to test the theory, I suggested that we plan a night out on the town with the SOLE PURPOSE of putting them where the women are.

My husband and I were just tagging along to see the place. Turns out there was plenty to see. The bar was MONSTROUS. Pretty much the biggest nightclub I had ever been in, and there were women EVERYWHERE. Cheap drinks were flowing from no less than 6 bars, a better-than-decent live band was playing, the light show was impressive, fog machines were in full swing, and the "tub girls" were wearing chaps and strutting their stuff and pole dancing up on top of the longneck iced-down beer carts. I had a good feeling about this place.

As we canvassed the club, I saw SCORES of women sitting alone, shyly glancing at our friends, but our friends seemed oblivions to that. They didn't speak to a soul . . . they got a beer and found a table away from the action and surveyed the land for quite a while. No problem, I figured it would take a little bit for them to jump in. Hour after hour passed, and still they had not spoken to one female. I began to point out women to them, and encourage them to take a chance. It didn't really do alot of good, but they did have a great time drooling over the tub girls.

We saw some damn funny stuff, too. I met a girl named Stephanie in the ladies room. Stephanie was standing in front of the large sink mirror, shirt up, braless, carefully and drunkenly applying red flashing stickers to her nipples. She proudly pulled her shirt back down and the effect was impressive. Of course, I introduced her to our friends, and she made her way to our area of the club a few times during the evening. One of our friends rode a mechanical bull, for about 5 seconds, and was unceremoniously tossed off onto his ass.

FINALLY, one of our friends talked with and "danced" with a beautiful blonde (he really didn't know how to dance, but he faked it quite well.) He was rewarded with a napkin with her number. Our other friend was not quite as successful, but he did manage to speak to a couple of women. All of this action occurred within the last hour, so it took quite a bit of liquid courage to get them to participate.

We shut the place down at 2:30 AM. I thought the night was a complete success. The guys themselves said that they had a great time. Of course, they did admit that the night was more expensive than trivia . . . they both left the place about 40 bucks poorer, but I think they thought it was worth it. They both commented that the night was over just as they were getting comfortable with the idea of approaching women. I think that another night out is in order. Gotta strike while the iron is hot.

NOW if I can talk them into learning how to dance . . .