Every serious romantic relationship comes with a warning label. Underneath your passport to the couples-only world, a tiny notice reads: "Caution: You are no longer considered fun."
You balk at the words. You most certainly are not one of “those” people – the ones whose life post-coupledom is reduced to “Two and a Half Men” reruns.
However, as you happily settle into romantic bliss, the invitations stop. Suddenly, your social calendar is devoid of obligations. Yet your going-out crew still somehow posts exciting weekend photos every Monday morning. They’ll extend an invite occasionally. But amid your “taken” status, those invitations are always prefaced with a disclaimer:
“We’re going clubbing, but the party might be a little late for you.”
They’re referring to a 10 p.m. start time.
You conquered the battlefield of love, but now you’ve got to fight for your right to party. Unfair? Slightly. It’s not like you encountered any major life changes upon entering a relationship. Well, aside from your newfound obsession with baby talk. When you gain a significant other, the nightlife world loses its meet market appeal.
A few weeks of unintentional couples-only hibernation can convince your friends you’ve retired your party hat for good. No one likes feeling like a social leper. If you want to convince your friends you’re still fun, drop the “we” for a night and remember this advice:
Let loose. Playing pool against a guy who happens to be single is not a form of cheating.
You don’t need to ruin everybody else’s options by yelling, “I’m in a relationship!” whenever a member of the opposite sex approaches your group’s table.
Just as annoying? Married people who go out so rarely that their only nights on the town turn into lessons in extreme drunken debauchery.
It’s not fair to ignore your single friends for three months, and then unload your problems on them in a margarita-inspired fit of emotion.
Abide by those suggestions, and you might resurrect a couple nights of glory with the old gang. But remember: When you enter a relationship, your nightlife priorities change. “Check-in” text messages become a regular deal. You now have someone who, with a cute pouty smile and a not-so-cute “or else,” can convince you to watch “The Notebook” instead of playing poker. That’s why it’s best to consider someone’s “fun” quotient an evolving concept.
One that includes wild party outings, as well as uninterrupted Saturday night games of couples-only Monopoly.