Getting Old.

Last night I went out with some friends. We went out for a bite to eat, to a concert, and then for a drink afterwards. We had a lot of fun, but came to the realization that we are getting old, and this might be the last concert we go to (until we have children who are 12 and want to go see the hottest pop singer.) So - that is the short story, now comes the long story and explains getting old.

There were 4 of us (ages 25, 27, 29, & 30) -- so all in the mid-upper 20's, 1 in nursing school and the other 3 with professional careers. Most days I feel quite young, as my co-workers are all older than I am, but last night we ent to a concert at a smaller state university to see the Black Eyed Peas. It had been a few years since I have been to a concert.

We got together and went out to this Jazz/Martini Club to get some food and have a few drinks. Now, I can guarantee you that probably 97% of the people going to this concert were NOT having martinis before the concert. Most were probably doing shots of their favorite schnapps or any other alcohol that was sitting around in their apartment that they share with 3 other people, since they are probably not all old enough to be legally served in a bar.

So, we're drinking our martini's and now we need to order. I really wanted a burger or a sandwich, so that was what I ordered - but the dilemma came in what my side would be. I was inclined to order the fries that typically came with it, but thought to myself "I should really order a salad. My body could use the vitamins from the veggies, and salad is so much better for me than fries." So - I ordered the salad and am starting to feel old. The salad had nothing to do with losing weight; it had to do with making my body feel good.

Then, while we are there - this psycho chic who knows one of the other ladies just shows up and invited herself along & she bought a ticket to the concert that morning. WTF!?!?!?!?! So, we try losing her in the car on the way to the concert - but she is following us so closely that she can probably smell the mixture of pee & martini on one lady's pants (will tell that story next). We do manage to lose her as we try to find a parking spot, but guess who is waiting at the doors to the concert for us. We were parked pretty close and she had driven further away, so she must have run to get there.

So, we get to the concert - wearing our jeans, black shoes, and conservative tops - and try to get in as close as possible. I imagine that a lot of the people there were young college students - but man, I think college girls have gotten a helluva lot bitchier since I graduated. And the hootchie-mama skirts & tops there were wearing was pathetic. Many of them cold have been picked up for prostitution for how they looked. But what was even more pathetic was the girls who dressed just like the female lead. Of course, that style has passed and the female lead was dressed differently & also appropriately for 30/40 degree weather outside. This one girl had the whole emsemble - the hat, the strapless top, the tiny ruffled skirt, and lambskin boots.

We were dressed relatively conservative, but still a young classy look - but certainly did not have that young whore look going on with most of the girls at the concert. Some girls did not even look old enough to be in college and were booty dancing with these guys.

Back to the psycho chic - now, she didn't even know who the band was and while the rest of us were singing along she was standing their dancing like a stuffed sausage. I am not sure how a stuffed sausage dances, but I am pretty sure it would look like her. She also kept looking at the rest of us and trying to imitate how we dancing and frankly she just looked like she was mentally retarded (sorry this comment is not all PC & shit). She left to go to the bathroom and we tried to move around in the crowd as one last ditch effot - but she found us. As we were leaving the concert we found some water fountains and drank up the water, all the while complaining of the iron taste in the water and the person who was smoking (in a no smoking arena) and how hot we were.

We managed to ditch the psycho chic on the way out by saying we were going home. She went one way, we went another -- to the nearest bar. We all still were carded, so I guess we aren't that old yet. The 4 of us find a place to sit down - order drinks - and being the old person I now am, tried to order top shelf Amaretto, just to have them look at me stupidly and say "So, you want this Phillips Amaretto." Fine, I'll take whatever you got then. So, more complaining about iron tasting water, ringing in our ears, feet hurting, and being tired. Man! One round - that's all any of us could do. So, 12:30 and we are back at one lady's house (but we must be quiet because her husband, son, and another lady's daughter are all sleeping.) We talk for a little bit - and to bed by 1pm. We were so old.

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The story about the pee/martini mixture: Have you ever heard of Hoovering? I guess I never heard the term used before - but it's where you squat over the toilet without letting your butt touch the seat. One of the ladies was hoovering, and it just didn't workout so well. She ended up peeing on her white pants and came out of the bathroom and told another lady about it & managed to dump over the martini (orange in color) of another lady - all over her lap. Funny stuff!