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you don’t understand. It is an absolute fact that a group of women cannot play foosball for more than ten minutes without guys coming over to play with them.”
    â€œYou’ve spent a lot of time proving this fact?” I said, a little reproachfully. Did I happen to tell you that Alice used to be a lawyer who defended the rights of the poor and disenfranchised, making them feel respected and heard, often at the darkest times of their lives?
    â€œYes. And I’ll prove it to you now.”
    So we took our drinks and moved over to the foosball table. Alice and I played foosball, while Serena watched the clock. It was exactly three and a half minutes before two guys walked up to us. At four and a half minutes, they challenged us to a game.
    Alice scares me, sometimes.
    She is, of course, brilliant at foosball, so we kept winning and getting challenged, the foosball suitors lining up to get a piece of our foosball magic. We kept drinking and the giggles started again and the next thing I knew, Serena was eating chicken wings off one of our challengers’ plates. A game later, she was licking her hot-sauce-covered fingers and ordering a plate of wings for herself. She was a vegan gone wild. I quickly scanned the room and saw Ruby still chatting with Gary, and Georgia still trying to talk to the cute guy between sports highlights. I had never seen Georgia flirt before; she was already married when I met her. But I could tell from just one look that she was trying too hard. She was talking a little too animatedly, listening a little too earnestly, laughing a little too excitedly. She was trying to compete with the Knicks and, even though they suck, she didn’t stand a chance. But instead of cutting her losses, she continued to touch his arm, laugh loudly, and order another drink.
    As Alice and I continued to beat these two guys (Bruce and Todd) at foosball, I heard Alice, when asked what she does for a living, say in complete earnestness that she’s a “facialist.” I looked at her with surprise and she shot me a look of “I’ll explain later.” I had had my foosball and flirting fill and excused myself, getting Serena to stop shoving poultry in her face long enough to take my place, and I walked over to the bar. On one side I heard Georgia squealing, “Oh my God, I love Audioslave!” (like she knows from Audioslave), and on the other, Ruby was saying to Gary, “I loved Ralph, but I mean, he was just a cat, you know?”
    Alice eventually walked over to get a drink. I looked at her, scowling with as much judgment and disappointment as I could muster. Alice took the hint.
    â€œDidn’t you hear about that study that came out of England? The smarter you are, the less likely you are of getting married. The dumb girls are getting the guys.”
    â€œSo you say that you give facials for a living, instead of that you’re a lawyer who graduated with top honors from Harvard Law School?”
    â€œYes, and it works.”
    â€œWhat happens if you start dating one of these guys?”
    â€œI’m just getting them interested by appealing to their basest level. Once I have their interest, I slowly sneak the smart in, but by then they’re hooked.”
    Appalled, I turned around just in time to see Georgia grabbing the cute guy’s face and kissing him straight on the lips. Kind of like a crazy person. Cute guy’s response: not so excited. He did that sort of laughing, sort of muttering “oh ho ho, you’re one wild girl” while trying to politely peel her off him. It was a painful moment for all of us.
    Serena ran up to us, her face aglow with hot sauce.
    â€œBruce and Todd think we should go to Hogs and Heifers.”
    Serena, who before tonight hadn’t been anywhere there wasn’t Enya or waterfall sounds playing, thought Hogs & Heifers was a keen idea. I realized she was slightly drunk.
    â€œCool, I know all the bartenders