For One Night Only

Danni

Friday, 13 October 2017… the date my transition from level-headed independent smart woman to bat-shit-crazy stalker chick was put into motion.

Jules came up with the idea when we were all sitting on my rug drinking wine.

“I know what you both need”

Liv shook her head groggily, “And what is that Obi-wan?”

I smirked into my glass, deciding to stay out of it.

“Well first of all… you need to get laid.”

We laugh

“But more importantly, you need a night off…”

“What does that even mean?” I weighed in

“It means… you need a night off from being yourselves… stop sweating the small shit, beating yourself up over things you have no possible control over. Relax, take a shot or ten… flirt with the handsome stranger at the end of the bar, get a number… give yours… have a one-night-stand”

“That’s absurd, even for you Jules” Liv snorted

“Well… hold on here Livvy…”

Liv whipped around and regarded me with a soft scowl, “Excuse me? Are you siding with Jules on this…Miss Responsible; Breaks-no-rules; Does-her-taxes-on-time?”

I throw up a hand in submission, “I know I’m the posterchild for OCD… but maybe Jules has a point. I mean we are so tightly wound up, it’s hard to know the real reason why I’m forever single and you’re freshly divorced.”

“I’ll tell you why I’m freshly divorced honey… it’s called a male midlife crisis”

We all force a giggle – knowing the real reason why Liv and Andrew’s marriage failed was far more deep-rooted than a midlife crisis.

Two years into their marriage, the young couple went to their local OGB to figure out why Liv wasn’t falling pregnant. The next five years saw them go to fertility clinics, native midwives, even a Shaman.

Liv knew her inability to have children would eventually take its strain on her marriage, even though Andrew swore he would love her unconditionally.

As their distance grew, his eyes started to wander and it wasn’t long until he started frivolous relationships with a few of the new waitresses at his restaurant.

She’d kept the pretense of a happy marriage for a few months, until in a drunken stupor she finally cracked and called him out on his cheating.

Sitting in content-laden silence we sat and reflected Liv and Andrew’s tumultuous marriage. We had all been friends since kindergarten, so it was difficult to not be tempted to choose sides during their divorce.

Andrew and I were golfing buddies, something the girls never caught on to. I still snuck away to catch up on a game every other weekend. Those times I felt most guilty for not being by a depressed sobbing Liv’s side.

Jules had no hesitation in picking sides. She was well and truly on Liv’s side. Julia James had no sympathy for a deserter for a husband. Her dad walked out on her mom when she was ten years old, her baby sister only four at the time. Her mom went from a stay-at-home mom in a gated neighborhood to a two-job-single-mother in downtown San Francisco.

The first time I visited Jules at their new home, I went home crying to my dad and begging him to help the James’ family move back to our neighborhood.

He explained that he couldn’t just offer this as some charitable deeds could be more hurtful than helpful – so he offered Ms. James a job at his company.

Both Jules and I pretended being oblivious of what really went down, so we refused to mention it – ever.

“Point is girls, we’re not getting any younger and life’s for living… and all that crap”

I chuckle into my glass.

“Okay, hypothetically speaking… say we go out on this reckless wild night… how do we even find guys that are willing to hook up with us?” Liv feigns interest

“Honey, contrary to your husband’s poor judgement – you are an absolute fox!”

This gets a reluctant smile from Liv.

“So we just go to a bar and pass our number around?” I ask

“No Dezzy, you wear your sexiest LBD and your foxiest stilettos...” she takes an indulgent sip of her wine “and you work it”

“At the risk of sounding anti-millennial… what exactly is ‘it’?”

Liv chimes in, “Oh you wouldn’t be the only one needing clarity on that Dez”

Jules rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her wine, “You use your femininity and sex appeal i.e. boobs; ass and batting eyelashes.”

Jules has both Liv and I in stitches. I cover my face with my hands in a pathetic attempt to hide my blushing cheeks.

“I think I might be getting too old for this. I missed my opportunity to be young, free and single by getting married when I was in my prime. I mean, I seriously doubt any man wants to see what I’ve got going on under this shirt and pants”

We reluctantly laugh at Liv’s expense.

“Look, just give it a try… what’s the harm?” Jules leans back against the seat of the couch.

“What exactly are we looking to get out of this? Well me, more specifically… as you’re still innocent to all this Danni. I’ve been there and done that; got the divorce scars to prove it”

“Well, you need to have your faith restored in mankind. Not all dudes are jerk-offs like your ex. Yes, there are a bunch of creepy mofos out there, willing to do and say whatever it takes to get in your pants… but in between the weeds, there just might be a gem – a really good guy, that unfortunately wears skinny jeans; 70s vests with prayer beads stacked on his wrists and his hair in a sloppy man bun”

We all laugh at Jules’ vivid description on our future husbands. But I couldn’t help but take her example in the most literal form; I’d immediately grab for the scissors and cut the bun.

“Well okay then…” Liv raises her glasses, Jules and I slowly get up to meet her half-way in her cheers. “To LBDs; GNOs; One Night Stands and a Harry Styles Knock-off in our future”

The clinking of our wine glasses seals the deal, as we continue to plot our girls’ night out.