Flyin' Solo

Cristy celebrated our Year Eleven Dinner Dance with a toast: SINGLE LIFE SUCKS!!!

However, mosh pits really are for flying solo, because when you're in the middle of a mosh pit you are simultaneously That Idiot Trying To Dance, That Sweaty Chick and TEH SEX. If you're with someone, you are only allowed to be the latter.

We singletons ate like there was no tomorrow, drank about fifty litres of Sprite, and danced the night away in the arms of about fifty different boys. Okay, maybe not fifty. But the poor 'taken' girls hardly dared to look at their guyfriends, lest Mr Boyfriend sees.

Really loud music allows you to do all that you want to do as a bitter spinster that you're not normally allowed to do around people with unimpaired hearing: 'obliviously' playing the third wheel, bitching about various couples, etc. 

The missuses stood, with their boyfriends, shoes on, hair up, awkwardly bobbing to the music.

They also miss out on the beautiful moments: sharing food with your girlfriends, taking pictures with your girlfriends, dancing with your girlfriends, singing 'Firework' with your girlfriends, bitching with your girlfriends.

Boyfriends can't do that.

And that's why I am flyin' solo.