Spread the love

The Diary Of A

Girls Night Out

by Doren Elliott

Usually, when my girls and I go out on the party scene, we refer to it as “The Honey Hunt,” if our datebooks aren’t currently filled with love prospects.  Though, as soon as I walked through the door of the party at the posh home of a local celebrity, my worst fears were realized.  Women were everywhere.  The only guy in the room was the host.  I spotted two women wearing the same outfit I almost wore and breathed a sigh of relief.

My best friend Amy and I sized up the competition and became somewhat intimidated by those we saw as threats in the beauty department but decided to tough it out.

The men began to come in slowly and the women moved strategically to a position where they could be easily noticed.  The music was fast-paced and nostalgic, and I began to feel the excitement, as the room became crowded.  Suddenly, men were more abundant, and winning smiles were everywhere.

The competition was now engaged in conversation with the opposite sex, but I had yet to be so lucky.  I sat and people-watched in hopes of being chosen to dance or converse.  Some of the female faces were bored, while others were expectant, and only a select few seem to be having a good time.

It seemed the “stars” arrived in groups of three or more.  The beautiful people with gleaming smiles, toned bodies, and designer duds, seemed so at ease with themselves, and I was jealous.  Confidence has a certain glamour and they seemed to know it.  They came prepared to stand out in the crowd and they did…big time.  

I’d been there an hour and a half, and still, no one noticed me.  I wondered out loud about my hair.  Should I have worn another style?  Should I have had it cut or what?   I decided to walk around to further my potential of being approached.  As I passed a group of guys, a hand reached out and guided me to the dance floor without saying a word.  He was tall and attractive, and I was ready to engage him.  I looked at him with my sweetest expression and made an attempt to entice dialogue.  He didn’t answer or even look at me, as he swung me here and there.  He was enjoying the music, and I was glad to be moving.  However, when the music ended, he thanked me and moved away quickly like a child moving from one toy to the next.

I was disgusted with my feeling of rejection.  I had to remind myself that it was just a dance.  I scanned the room for my friend Amy, who had been on the dance floor since we arrived.  I wasn’t surprised.  She usually sparkles around men and I don’t.  She smiles freely at everyone, and I only bestow my smile on those I deem worthy.  Her phone was already ringing with a male voice on the other end and I was envious.

Across the room, I spotted a guy who appealed to me from afar and my stomach jumped.  I decided to be bold and asked him to dance.  He accepted, but his moves on the floor were awkward.  The music ended and this time I faded voluntarily into the crowd without a word. 

Suddenly I was bored and ready to go home.  As usual, I came to the party looking and hoping that this was my night to meet the man of my destiny.  However, it seemed I had failed again.  My confidence level dwindled down to zero.

As I searched the room for Amy, I began to dread the prospect of going home to an empty apartment.  Suddenly, out of nowhere, in the midst of my mental pity party, the no-dancing guy whom I’d chosen earlier appeared at my side with a big grin.

“Can we try it again?  I learned a few more steps since I saw you last.”  I laughed and felt instantly embarrassed for my bad attitude.

“Sure, we can.  If you promise to teach me what you learned.”

Thus, we ended up dancing the rest of the evening and when he took my number, I felt confident that my phone was going to start ringing again with a male voice on the other end, and the next day it did.

Leave a Reply