Well, I had an enjoyable night out, in that Mrs. Mia Wallace kinda way.

Mind you, nothing is better than being out at the club with my Friediness. When I get tired of dancing I can go lean against him and listen to his conversations without having to be social myself. I don't have to scare off the extra boys that my stupid face attracts when I'm not paying attention - the extra boys see his big strong arms around me and manage to determine my complete lack of interest all by themselves.

BUT, if I have to go out without my Friedy, I have to admit I get a kick out of being taken out by one of his friends. In my imagination I become the Mob Boss's girlfriend - being squired about on the dancefloor by handsome hitmen because the Boss is too busy to attend to me himself. Not that Friediness really resembles a mob boss, but most of his friends would likely make reasonable - if somewhat atypical - hit men, so my imagination doesn't have too hard. 

And I'm probably a huge dork for admitting this, but I don't care. I still get a kick out of the repetition of the following conversation:

"You got a boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Why haven't I seen him?" 

*airy shrug* "He had to work tonight so he sent one of his boys to take me out dancing."

And then I flounce off to the dance floor to tear it up like Mrs. Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction.
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