Hope Nuggets: Girls in Bars

A warm and fuzzy story.

Scenario: Lower East Side dive Max Fish @ 1am Sunday morning.

Inner Monologue: I’m out because my BF’s Texas relatives are in town, and it is my girlfriendly duty to help him entertain. But it’s cold and I’m tired and I shouldn’t be playing chess until 3am multiple nights a week – no, what I REALLY shouldn’t be doing is pretending I want to be out when I’m effing exhausted – whatever, none if it matters. One more hour and I can go home. It could be worse – I could be surrounded by bitchy women.

Cut to: Two super-cute girls periodically glancing in my direction and whispering to each other.

Really? REALLY???!!!

On the surface, it looks like these girls are trash-talking me – that was certainly my assumption at the time. In the past, I would have unleashed my death glare on them, and that would have been it. I’ve got a little more hope for humanity these days, so I did my best to curb the bitchface. Instead, I shot a non-invasive glance back. A small ‘Hello’ in the form of a facial expression, if you will.

Then, the unthinkable happened: The three of us became friends.

One of the girls smiled in response to my glance, grabbed my arm, and yanked me into the convo. The following ensued:

G1: I think we have the same shirt!

CJ: That’s all you were saying?! Phew! I thought…

G2: You thought we were trash talking – we weren’t!

G1: I totally knew what it it looked like, which is why I grabbed you when you looked over!

CJ: Thanks so much for clarifying, seriously. I thought I was about to have a really bad night.

A comparison of pinstriped button-downs ensued, followed by an in-depth analysis of Banana Republic vs. Uniqlo +J, followed by a collective assessment of both brands as good, but kinda overpriced. This prompted some healthy kvetching on overpriced clothing in general.

G1: The Barney’s Warehouse Sale, what’s your take?

CJ: Hell on Earth!

G2: I know! It’s like a picture of women at their worst.

We bonded over shopping tips and fashion quips for the bulk of an hour; contact info was exchanged, as were girl-crush hugs and air-kisses. I left the bar that night with two new, genuinely nice buddies and something else too: An understanding of how what we put out there affects what we get back.

Girls you don’t know are only your enemies if you view them as such. Give them the benefit of the doubt by not being on the defensive, and who knows? They might just turn out to be your allies.

We’re all in this together. Kumbaya, beotches.