Small town .....Girls' night out Beantown Edition Continued

Boston is a small town or at least my world is.

Saturday night my friend S and I decided to make it a night. I wore a slutty-low-cut-green and pink-silk top with some dark denim. Hair was washed. I even contemplated wearing lip gloss, although I decided against it mainly because I could not find it.

S was already starting her night a little earlier with dinner at the Blue Cat with her sister and our friend C, a boy. By the time I met them they had already tide on a few. We called another friend H, who was ready to have a night on the town with his boys and we were going to make it a posse event. S's sister decided it was time for her to go home and was unwilling to move on to the next bar. Understandable as it was raining, but we were brave souls and decided to continue.

We first went into an Irish Pub in which the general crowd seemed to be aged 40 plus. Not a good scene for two girls and a boy on the prowl. Next destination was 33, the infamous location of Evil Twin#2 beantown girls night out. S decided it was too dark and filled with eurotrash. Making our way back to Boylston and the strip of thirty something bars we lost C, who decided he too just wanted to go home and curse the bad weather.

On Boylston, lines were out the door to get into the regular hotspots. Ridiculous considering the weather. So S and I settled on the City Bar, a quiet hotel bar that tries to be far swankier than it is. S and I got a table, chatting away with our ten dollar froufrou drinks. We met a really nice married couple, well actually the wife was really sweet. Her husband was completely inattentive as he was talking sporting nonsense with his friend. We got in a minor scuffle with some oversexed gals who wanted to steal our seats, while we were sitting there. The night was pretty tame for the most part.

And here is the big moment of the story. The dun-dun-dun part of the drama. I went to the bar to get us a couple of drinks. Unable to get the attention of the bartender, I ask the man in front of me to flag him down. Now this guy seems familiar, but I am slightly buzzed so what the hell do I know. He buys my drink for me, a nice gesture so I stay for a little chat. When I see his friends behind him, I realize OH MY FREAKING LORD. THE MASSHOLES THAT HIT ON EVIL TWIN #2 AND V A MONTH AGO. (Here is the link to the previous encounter. Girl's night out.)

If you do the math, it should not be so surprising that one would meet the same people again. The city of Boston, according the 2000 census, has population of approximately 600,000. About 48% of them are male and 21% are aged from 25-34 years. If you also assume 10% of the population is homosexual, 11% are married, 15% are in committed relationships, and 5% are either homeless or institutionalized that leaves you with the grand total of 36,000 men. Out of that if you take into consideration how many people actually go out (as can be seen by our companions who bowed out early) and you can conclude how my new lifestyle of hitting the town more often is going to result in a lot of these reencounters.

Back to the story. Well, a week after the girls night out, Pete-tah called my friend V. She had given her number out of duress, and was unable to lie quick enough that night. So when he called, it caught her a little off guard. She could not even remember his name, a sign that should have crushed his spirit. Apparently, he is slightly masochistic as he went on to ask her out only to be shot down and this time for good.

Of course, in my second encounter with these boys, V's name came up and awkward conversation ensued. (The groper was wearing glasses by the way. And I could not stop laughing because I was wondering if boys who wear glasses are smaht and sexy.) They were still nice, although no dancing was involved this time. Maybe next time....

All in all, another entertaining night on the town.

FYI, alcohol, even in low quantities, and exercise the next day do not mix.