When women friends get together, it's not men we talk about
I met up with a group of friends for a night out last weekend.
We only see each other about twice a year which is just as well because it takes me a week to recover after being with them! We had dinner and sat and talked, and talked and talked. We stayed out till 3.30am and then came home and talked some more.
Himself sent me a text from the bedroom reading: "Justine-it's 4.19 am. Go to bed!" I finally succumbed at around 5am when we belatedly decided we'd drank way too much and staggered off to our respective rooms.
'WHAT were ye talking about till 5 in the morning?' Himself asked incredulously the next day as I nursed my head in my hands and told him not to be so loud. 'I dunno...stuff,' I said, sounding like a recalcitrant teenager.
'But you met at 7pm. What could you possibly still after to talk about ten hours later? Men I suppose,' he says.
And that's the thing! That is the one myth men have about women-that when we're together we talk about men. As if! Maybe in your late teens or early twenties when you're going out on the pull, you talk about men, but as you get older, men are way down your list of discussion topics.
We talked about our jobs, we talked out about our kids, we talked about books. We talked about people we knew in common, we talked about loved ones we had lost. But we didn't talk about men. It wasn't a conscious decision, it just never came up.
In a taxi on the way to a nightclub later that night (Yes! it was that kind of a night) talk turned to our vanity. One of the girls decided she wanted to get botox to get rid of her crows feet. We discussed the pros and cons, deciding we'd never go as far as a face lift but a bit of botox was ok and if we had the money we'd all have a boob job. We all had a look at each others assets and decided I needed a lift, one of the others needed a reduction whilst the third was going for three cups bigger.
The taxi stopped outside the nightclub and the driver who seemed completely oblivious to our conversation turned around and said, 'my girlfriend does all that.'
"What? Does boob jobs?" I asked astonished.
'No she does all that stuff, ya know the injections for the wrinkles and the stuff for your lips and all.' We all looked at each other in amazement.
'Oh ,' says one of the girls, 'Where did she train?'
'Ah no she isn't trained. She taught herself. She buys it all on the internet but if you want her number I can give it to yis.'
'Do you know what? We'll have a think about it first but eh, thanks anyway,' I said before we all fell out of the taxi in hysterics.
So if you ever want to know what women talk about on a night out, just ask a taxi driver!