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there,” Alice replied.
    Ruby and her new boyfriend, Gary, thought it was a great idea, too. Again, the entertainment director in me was concerned. Our evening had degraded from Steaks and Vodka to Beer and Wings to Hogs & Heifers. New York is a big, hip, glamorous city, and there was no need to be ending our night in a touristy, outdated biker bar. I told them this, but alas, the horses had broken out of the barn and were now planning to gallop all the way downtown to Hogs & Heifers with or without me. Ruby came up, excited.
    â€œGary is going to meet us down there; he just had to go pick up one of his friends. Julie—wouldn’t it be an amazing story if Ralph died but I ended up meeting the love of my life right after? Wouldn’t that be great? Gary’s really cute, right?”
    â€œHe is totally cute, Ruby. Totally.” And he was. He seemed really nice and into her, and by God, people meet and fall in love every day of the week, so what the heck?
    Alice, Georgia, and Serena were already outside hailing cabs with Bruce and Todd. Ruby went outside to join them. I decided to go along. My experience with women not used to drinking or staying out late is that by the time they have the cab ride downtown, they’ll be sleepy, slightly nauseous, and ready to go home.
    Unfortunately, that was not the case. In their cab going downtown, Todd told Georgia about how Hogs & Heifers is famous for women getting on the bar and dancing, and then somehow taking off their bras. Demi’s done it, Julia’s done it, Drew’s done it. It’s the thing to do. At least, that’s what Alice told me when I got there, explaining how and why Georgia had managed to already be on top of the bar swinging her bra around. Ruby was screaming and laughing, Serena was hootin’ and hollerin’ and the place was going wild. Hogs & Heifers is famous for its “biker redneck” aesthetic. The walls are covered with hundreds of women’s tossed-off bras for as far as the eye can see. Wherever there might be a tiny bit of wall space left, there’s an American flag or cowboy hat. The bartenders are all women wearing tight denim and even tighter t-shirts and the place is packed. Bruce and Todd had disappeared, but I’m sure they were hootin’ and hollerin’ from wherever they were. It’s so odd how all it takes is a few people dancing on a bar to make people feel as if they’re having a hilariously wild night out.
    Now, you have to understand why seeing Georgia on top of a bar was disturbing to me. Remember, I met Georgia when she was already married. And Georgia and Dale were not the couple you’re going to catch groping each other in the kitchen. So I have never actually seen Georgia get her groove on, so to speak, and it wasn’t something I ever really missed seeing. I looked at her on the bar, gyrating and grinding, and I remembered back to a day when I went to the beach with Georgia and her two children, Beth and Gareth. She spent the whole day in the water with them, getting them used to the waves. I helped for a while, playing with them for an hour or two, but she stayed in longer than any adult human being should have to, without a complaint. Then she let them cover her entire body with sand, with only her tired, salty face sticking out. That’s the Georgia I remember—Georgia, the wife and mother of two.
    But now Georgia was allowing herself to unravel. She was single, she was out, and she wanted to have FUN!
    The bar was crowded with lots of guys, many from out of town, some bikers, a couple of cowboys (don’t ask me), all sharing the common trait of having a deep respect for women and their struggles on this planet. Just kidding. Serena then got on the bar as well, beer in hand, drinking and dancing. Okay, I’ll admit it, that was fun to see. Serena, not only in a bar, but on a bar and trying to do a two-step. Alice then got up on the bar, too—my