Joplin asked who the guy was, and Sylvia said it was Johnny, the photographer who shot the print ad.
Joplin said, "Oh, I've seen him. He's cute! What are you wearing on your date, Sylvia?"
"Oh, I thought I'd go shopping tomorrow, if that's OK with you, boss. I need something girly to wear. I don't have enough girly dresses. I saw a beautiful floral chiffon dress in the window that I'm dying to try on."
Melissa said, "Oh come on, you don't want to wear something girly your first date. Wear something sexy. Wear that black leather miniskirt of yours."
"Are you sure? I don't want to scare him away on the first date."
"He fell in love with you when you were in that sexy black coc-ktail dress. If that doesn't scare him, nothing will."
Joplin said, "She should wear that blue silk dress she wore to the charity do. I love that dress!"
"But I just wore it yesterday!"
"So? He doesn't know. He didn't see you."
"But what if I run into someone I know? Oh, poor Sylvia, she only has one dress."
Melissa said, "You should wear that black lace top you have, Sylvia. That'll knock his eyes out."
Sylvia, not having any idea that he was a man, happily spent over an hour talking about his tops, skirt, and dresses, not only the ones he wore but the ones he had his eye on, and the ones he looking all over for, and what looked good on him and what didn't, and whether blue was his color or red was his color. Then one of them mentioned make-up, so they started talking about that. Then they started talking about their cycles. Then they started talking about guys.
Sylvia said, "Listen, if you ever want to date Ron, it's OK with me, Melissa. He'd dead to me."
"Oh, Sylvia, I hate to hear you talk that way! You should patch things up with Ron. If he wants to be just friends with you, you should respect that! You're so beautiful, I know you're used to getting any man you want, but sometimes even you have to let one get away."
"Oh, Melissa! I'm not---I'm not really that beautiful, you know."
"Yeah, I know you have to say that so we won't hate you. But---come on!"
The girls laughed, and Sylvia laughed, too.
Melissa yawned and asked, "What time is it?"
Joplin looked at a clock and said it was one in the morning.
"Oh crap!" said Melissa. "Pardon my French. I can't believe this happened again! How long have we been talking? And we never got to one game! This is the eighth time in a row! Why do we keep doing this? Don't ever tell anyone about this, girls, especially not a man. This is just the thing men would make fun of me for."
"Oh, the hell with them!" said Sylvia. "Why should we be ashamed of talking, just because men don't do it? Can you imagine four women sitting around watching a football game and none of them saying anything? If we want to get together and talk, we will get together and talk, and screw what any man thinks of it! We will not be defined by them!"
Joplin said, "Maybe we should stop calling it game night."
"We can call it whatever we want," said Sylvia.
So game night broke up and they all went their separate ways. Sylvia went home to his apartment. He sat and crossed his legs, and a contented smile came over his face as he thought of the night. He loved getting together with the girls, without any men around to get in the way.