A Night Out on the Town

I love romantic comedies set in New York City where girlfriends go out for dinner or drinks, walk home to their apartments and then go to work the next day.  I find that exotic because it is not remotely like my life.  My friends and I live in suburbia and if we did go out for dinner we’d drive our cars because that’s what you do in suburbia.  Not to mention having to deal with snowy conditions and icy sidewalks if you did find a place in your neighbourhood where you could hang out. 

       But now I have a couple of girlfriends who live downtown and I only have to overcome my dread of driving downtown in the dark to start experiencing the ambience of night life in my old age.  The world better look out because there are band of sisters coming out who are of a certain age and are just out for a good time.  Society needs to recognize that mature women of a certain age have a disposable income and we want to put it towards a fun time.  I’ve thought about creating a Girlfriends’ Bar or an Old Girls Club but the truth is that women are much more inclusive than men.  Even though we are no longer on the prowl for a good man (because we realize at last that there is no such animal) we don’t like to hurt their feelings and say you can’t come in.  While we are nice like that we don’t find men folks reciprocating at all.  We are still the Invisible Ones when we go out anywhere for an evening so perhaps an exclusive clubs is necessary to cushion our delicate middle aged egos from being passed over during the cocktail hour.

       I was out on the town the other night and had a fantastic time with a girlfriend.  I felt as though we were in one of those romantic comedies (sans the romance) as we walked along the brightly lit sidewalk to our club where Of All Things That I Ever Wanted to Do, we met, quite by accident, people we knew.  It was like a dream come true movie sequence as we chatted with a colleague who just happened to be at the club.  After dinner we jaywalked (something I never do) across the street to the wine shop where we were having our tasting evening.  How much fun to think of us dashing across the street (okay, we were cautiously waiting for cars to stop and let us stroll across) just like Carrie whats-her-name in NYC.  Okay we weren’t wearing Jimmy Choos, we had on winter boots and our scarves were muffling our faces, but it felt the same.  We bustled past the fragrance of spices and deli supplies to reach the really exclusive little wine shop in the back.  How charming to see that we were not the first but among the fashionably last to arrive and then to be greeted with a champagne glass of really good rosé.  There were no awkward moments; instead we blended perfectly into the group anticipating an evening of experiencing new wines.

       Afterwards we walked through the dark streets giggling, slightly tipsy from the wine but still able to walk a straight line, talking about the wines and Italy.  I didn’t even think until later that “hey, we never once talked about work” and wasn’t that great? 

       And to all my guy friends, I know there are some good men out there.  J