The Penis Party

Every woman who enjoys the company of men (I don't mean as opposed to being a lesbian - just that the majority of her friends are fellas) has had the experience of having that one moment of clarity that makes her realize that she really is one of the guys. It's the kind of moment that makes you want to slam down your tequila shot and scream "Hey! I'm a friggin' GIRL!!"

Case in point: I'm at The Darkside last night enjoying happy hour with Da Boyz as usual when it begins...the off-color jokes, crude sexual comments about women (both real and imagined) and suddenly I realize I'm in the middle of a Penis Party. The guys, including the NB are laughing so hard they're nearly pissing themselves. I paused for a moment, looked down my shirt to make sure I still had tits, and thought "I've been assimilated into the Borg."

I remember the days when they used to apologize to me for making lewd jokes in my presence. The end of those days is met with mixed feelings. I love them, I feel accepted...and comfortable...and yet there's something that's just icky and makes me feel weird. I suppose it's that along with being "The Girl" in the group I used to function as the locus of sexual desire but now that's gone too and I might as well trade in my boob shirt for a flannel and a Yankees cap.

It also occurs to me that it MAY be contributing to the aforementioned drought as far as the NB is concerned....I mean, come on, he's straight...he doesn't want to have sex with one of the boys. So, gentle readers, tonight I pull out the big guns. Hair, makeup, hootchie shirt. I AM WOMAN - WATCH ME DRINK!