On their way to glory

“Soooo?” Greta nosily asked. “Did ‘Mr. Man Hands’ measure up?”

Lucy smiled as sheepishly as a girl like her could. “Well, it was definitely the best academic sex I’ve had. But that’s not saying much, to be honest.” She took a swig from her flask and winked at her girlfriends. “Did you guys meet anyone interesting?” she asked, half jokingly.

Babs rolled her eyes hard. The party had been more painful for her than the other two. She just had no patience for pretentious academics. Somehow Greta and Lucy had learned to cope; Greta by being a great actress and Lucy by sleeping with half the academic community of the greater Toronto area.

“Fuck you, Lucy," said Babs, as they continued to walk towards the subway. "I would have never agreed to go if I had known the level of douchebaggery that was going to be involved." Her heels clacked loudly on the sidewalk. "Anyway, the night's not over yet, bitches. We’re going to the pub. Three pitchers of dirty draft is the only way to unclench my jaw.”

And so the three women walked into the night with hopes of drunken glory.