When a plan comes together

I promise I'll stop blogging so much soon. I've got so much free time on my hands these days, and I'm not quite ready to write an article. Soon, grasshoppers, soon.

I went out with some pals last night in the ATL. The afternoon was spent shopping with the girls, and then the boys (ok, husbands) showed up later and we all went out to eat. Over the course of the day, one of my new single ATL acquaintances decided that we needed to go out and hit clubs and bars immediately. I agreed readily, but wondered at her rather intense eagerness.

She explained: "I've forgotten how to flirt. I'm completely out of my depth with men. I can't get it together. Last man I chatted with in a bar I called 'tedious' to his face."

I laughed and said I wasn't sure how I could help, because I had only the week before told a boy in a bar that I thought I had likely babysat for him at some point. Not good.

She shook her head and explained her strategy:
1. She's a short brunette with, for want of a clearer term, a nice rack. I am a tall blonde with more happening in the stems department. We're a good set. (I raised an eyebrow at this for a moment and asked, "wait, what do you mean by set?" She meant we both "bring something to the table." Hmmm.)
2. She's funny--like comedy writer / has books funny--and I'm occasionally amusing. We are fun to talk to. With both of us there, neither of us can unleash our substantial scorn without a witness. This might tame our shrewishness, at least temporarily.
3. We both hold our drinks well and will not make "spectacles" of ourselves.

What do you think? Is this a plan? Should alterna-brunette and WASPy girl go out with their plunging necklines and Inappropriately Short Skirts and hit the 404? We'll see soon enough, chickens. I feel like I've been recruited for the varsity squad. Of something.