When my little brother (aged 21) called me up this evening to complain that his friends had abandoned their ideas of going out in favor of poker, I had the utmost sympathy. There used to be a time when that would happen to me almost weekly. It wasn't for the same reasons (abusive partner vs. poker addiction), but it ended the same way. I understand the plight of the wanting-to-go-out-and-not-able. I brought him out, and there were people there he was familiar with.
They sang karaoke, I sang karaoke (believe me, you don't wish you were there), and we all drank to our hearts' content. It was beautiful.
Mike says Bruce needs to call him, because he likes him. That's the end of my story.