Meeting Your Girlfriend’s Girlfriends For The First Time
A narration of a dreaded time for a guy when he has to meet his girlfriend’s council of ladies for the first time.
You’re walking down the busy street on a Friday night; catching your reflection on a closed vintage store, you stopped to fix your hair through the window, although if you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t have that much left in you today.
Taking a deep breathe, you start to think,
‘Will they say something about my hair? I should have worn something more casual.’
That’s right buddy. You should have. You’re not going to a Baptist church, you’re going drinking with your girlfriend’s girlfriends for the first time.
The thought made your palms sweatier.
Catching the time on your watch, it reads: 9:12 PM.
You’re running late, and you’re pretty sure it’s because you had to wash your lucky boxers, you know, the one you only wear when you know you’re going to get laid that night.
And you’ve met your other exes’ girlfriends, they screw you up with sarcasm along with those little talks they had in the bathroom about what they like and don’t like about you.
Your ex-girlfriend made sure you knew what those are when she was kicking you out of your own apartment.
You finally reach Moe’s Bar; you can’t miss it, the neon sign, you’re pretty sure, can be seen by the astronauts hovering above Earth in the International Space Station.
Another thing you can’t miss is the stare of your girlfriend, because you’re late, but she smiled anyway to avoid any awkwardness, met you halfway with a smooch on the lips.
There were more girlfriends than you expected. She only mentioned three names, but there were 5.
This doesn’t help your anxiety at all.
Everyone smiled, the kind of smile you give to someone you barely know but have information on you that can ruin your life.
‘Do girls really share everything?’
You nervously smiled back but not until you noticed one of the girls looked at you from head to toe, checking out your outfit — you assumed.
That did nothing to calm your nerves, you hoped for the Armageddon to start and for someone to just stamp a 666 sign on your forehead and drag you back somewhere — anywhere else.
Guessing from the birds and bees topic, you missed the first segment of the reunion of their reality show, you know when they catch up about life.
As far as you can tell, they’re a little bit buzzed from the amount of sexual innuendos in their conversation, or is it true that a group of girls have dirtier mouths than guys?
You’ve never understood girls and probably never will.
So far so good though, nobody noticed your hairline until your girlfriend pointed it out as a joke, they all laughed — hard — drunkenly hard.
You retaliated by pointing out the big mole on the side of her head, apparently it wasn’t as well received as her joke. Everyone just stared at you like you said something awful.
Again, you probably won’t be the first man in history to discover how a woman’s mind works, buddy.
The whole night everyone was kind of staring at you, peripherally, but a few bottles down and you eased into it.
It’s 2:00 AM, everyone was buzzed and you all decided to call it a night and head home.
“Your friends seem nice.” You told your obviously drunk girlfriend.
“You have a booger on your nose the whole night.” She laughed, “that’s why they were staring at you.”
Yes, nobody ever bothered to tell you.
Taking back what you said, you breathed a sigh of defeat,
“My girlfriend and her girlfriends are assholes.”
