Lucky 13

The long anticipated girl's night out. Lucky 13. Or is it Lucky 7? It doesn't matter, it's the 13th therefore, for our purposes, it's Lucky 13. Tonight is going to be magical; you can feel it in your bones. It is your lucky night. The thing about luck though, at least what you learned from watching leprechauns on Charmed, is that it can go either way. Let's hope your luck tonight is good, regardless of tonight also being Friday the 13th and a full moon -- the freaks come out at night.

There's 4 of you tonight; all different and all attractive. Each of you is dressed to impress; each showcasing her own personal style -- brightly colored jeans, silky tops, feathered earrings, short skirts, tall boots, mini dresses, a white bandage. It's no accident you came to The Knockout tonight. All of you plan on being the knockouts for the night. No pun intended.

You walk up to the door and look at your friends, their ids are out. You search in your bag for yours, but your broken finger slows you down. During the search for your card, you drop your mini Swiss army knife. The bouncer picks it up and looks at it, looks at you. He raises an eyebrow. You, in all seriousness, say the first thing that comes to mind, "The first rule of Fight Club: you do not talk about Fight Club." He laughs. Loudly. Your friends don't know what to think. One is used to you and just laughs with an eye-roll. Another looks a little nervous. The third just calls you "estupit" as she stifles a giggle.

You tell him you broke your finger a number of weeks ago and need the knife to cut the tape every time you re-bandage. He looks at you with an interested gleam in his eyes, looks at your friends. He's charmed by their looks, amused by your words. He let's you in, waiving the cover charge.

It's gonna be a good night. An unpredictable night. Your favorite kind.

The excitement is contagious and shared by all 4. there is no other motive other than let loose and have fun.

For one of you tonight is a stress reliever -- working 7 days a week takes a toll and a girl's night out is the perfect outlet. Hubby can stay home.

For another, the entertaining and possibly wild outing is needed to block the pain of a recent break up. Boys watch out!!

You and your other friend, the crazy one, just need to go out. You're both thinking of tonight as your "debut". You both plan on dancing and mingling and possibly flirting. Definitely flirting. This night, you plan on showcasing and embracing and possibly flaunting. Definitely flaunting. Tonight, there's no holding back.

You walk in. You're met by an instant heat wave - the place is packed. You push and are pushed as you all make your way to the bar.The music is loud. Its old school. You're back at your middle school's playground. Except that now you drink. The bartender, middle-aged and tough-looking, approaches you: one redstripe for crazy, one margarita for wife, one cranberry vodka for newly single and for you, vodka soda (less calories and you are wearing a very fitted dress). No cosmos here. The Sex and the City gals are much more sophisticated than this foursome. Cheers!

Drinks in tow, you hit the dance floor. THe music vibrates inside you. Your bodies move to the rhythm, you effortlessly sway to the beat. Your drinks swish with every movement, they bounce with every step. Someone bumps into you and there goes your drink. Oh well... It was too strong anyways. You're wearing heels tonight and drinking always gives you a strong case of spaghetti legs. You put the glass down and dance.

You look around and notice one of your friends is missing. In the corner, you spot her. She's getting her long awaited kiss. He's cute. Totally her type. Tall, dark and handsome. Non-squishy. Her golden eyes flash mischievously and her skin, already damp, glistens under the dim lights. She's having a great night. Go crazy!

The foursome is down to three. At least for the next couple of hours.

You spoke too quickly. The trio is down to two. Newly single is newly entertained. You'll be surprised if she decides to take a breathing break in the near future. Wife and you exchange a look, it's just the two of you for now. At least you still have someone to dance with. It's better that way; you don't like the sometimes sticky fingers these boys have and neither does her husband.

The music is getting louder. The beat is stronger. The bass pounds alongside your heartbeat. You and wife look at each other and laugh -- you're both having the time of your week for sure. This is what being young is all about it. All the worries and stress of the week forgotten for several hours.

In the dark you spot him. From across the room, your eyes meet. Your smile is tentative. It's him. The one who broke your heart. You realize you've stopped dancing. Your legs feel heavy, your heart races. Wife looks at you, a puzzled look on her face. You don't speak. You don't know what to say, what to feel. Part of you wants to run the other way, pretend he isn't there. Another part of you wants to run to him. But instead, you look at wife, smile and keep dancing.

The lights come on. The 4 of you reunite. Newly single and crazy are back, satisfied smiles adorn their faces. The night is over. As you walk out, you take one look back, see him and without regrets, leave for good.