I went out with my bestie who needed a girls' night — boy trouble, the usual reason we end up somewhere with good lighting and a full glass of wine. We got lucky and grabbed the last two seats at our favorite spot in Little Italy, which already felt like a good omen.
We spent the first stretch talking to a lovely couple next to us, who gave us the classic unsolicited-but-endearing advice: wait as long as possible to have kids. Noted. They eventually headed home to their actual kids, and their seats got taken almost immediately by two guys visiting from LA.
At that point I was showing Megan the cards — we were mid-debate about whether to make it a full night out or call it early. Before we'd decided, we looked up and somehow had a man on either side of us. Fast movers, these two.
They wanted to know what we were playing, and wouldn't you know it, the card in my hand happened to be "challenge someone to arm wrestle." So naturally, that's what happened next. I don't know why I thought I had any shot at beating him — genuinely, I really thought I had some hidden strength in me. It took him less than ten seconds.
It was still really nice to just sit and connect with people that were mere strangers an hour ago. When the bill came, the arm wrestle champ took care of it without any hesitation. It was so nice to see that gentlemen still exist.
I lost the arm wrestle. I'd still call the night a solid win.
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