I'm The Control Group

A few nights ago a group of us dressed up and went to the premiere party for a friend of mine's reality show debut (a good reality show requiring talent of the contestants). Fun was had by all in the form of various fruity concoctions. Storytelling, great conversation, laughs, wasabi covered peas...everything you need for a great night out. As we pit-stopped to pick up another guest on our way to the final bar stop of the night, the following announcement was made to our stunned guest whom had just endured a 5.5 hour drive to step into a car full of very happy glam'd up people, "Come on in! We've got three married ladies and a guy in here!"

Seems like a very normal statement, doesn't it? The problem with this proclamation of car inhabitants is there was one other, apparently unidentifiable person, squeezed in the way back. Me. There were three married ladies, one guy, and Me.

This dismissal of my attendance, based on the fact I am neither married nor male, made me wonder if I'm some kind of control group now. The Single Girl control group. Throw together a group of individuals with the "treatment" of marriage, being the one male in the group, and then the control girl who still remains the same pathetically socially unaltered girl (no marriage, no kids, no pets) and see what the scientific experience of the night can unravel. Comparing the results of the treated (aka married) group to a wild night out and the control group (aka not married) girl is essential to rule out imagined effects of the night. For instance, dancing in a bar full of 21 year-olds. By comparing the treated (married) group with the control group (me)- the results would determine there are no differences in reaction and both groups participated in the same way.

Lending my body to science. Sigh.