I had the following phone conversation with a girl I was asking out for a third date:
Me: How does Tuesday sound?
Her: Oh no, Thursday is better. Tuesday is no good, that’s girls’ night!
Me: Is this anything like a lesbian orgy?
Her: Ha, no, we get together and do arts and crafts every Tuesday night. We make yarn doilies and have a friendly competition to see who can knit the best. And we drink a few bottles of red wine.
Me: For real?
Her: Yes, it’s fun! It’s not really about the competition, it’s about the bonding.
Me: And the giggling.
Her: Squeals and giggles!
This is a social phenomenon you will never see straight guys doing. I can’t even mentally picture a scenario under which there could be a “boys’ night in” without crossing over to fruitville. There isn’t a guy alive who would postpone a hot date to sit in a semi-circle on pillows in the living room with his buddies one designated night a week to play Uno, do a group pedicure, and bitch about girls. Guys get together to watch the game and sit respectable distances from each other on the couch, but nothing remotely resembling what girls do. The closest I can think of is when fifteen guys in my college dorm all piled into one cramped room to watch a porno and get a mass erection.
Me: So what do you guys talk about?
Her: Family, girl stuff, guys… then we talk about cats.
Girl who talks about cats + one dating checklist bullet point too many = cat lady.
The Girls’ Night In is a peculiar idiosyncracy of the childless late 20- and 30-something yuppie woman who has a library of dating books with titles like “Listen to Your Inner Bitch and Avoid These Men” and a secret stash of glittery tiaras she wears while modeling consignment shop clothes in front of a floor length mirror. Without the constant positive feedback of a supportive environment of close friends and family, women go slowly crazy. Since modern urban living shreds these ancient connections, they get their fix by taking “classes” and inventing ridiculous reasons for getting together with other women over a contrived commonality.
Women need to aimlessly socialize like men need to jerk off. If they don’t, they get their version of blue balls — wild mood swings. The fact that a girl will complain about not meeting any good men and then postpone a date with a guy she really likes to talk excitedly about that guy with her girlfriends at a doily-knitting party on the same night she could be in that guy’s arms making out with him proves that girls are mentally ill and should not be trusted with positions of power.
Different species. Men are more closely related to chimpanzees than they are to women.