Time Fighting
This weekend I was out celebrating a friend’s birthday.
We went for dinner at this fancy Japanese restaurant. It was all very ultra modern. You know, the kind of place that makes you feel like you just stepped into the future. The waitresses were all immaculately dressed. I hate it when they do that. It’s really not that serious. It’s just food. Thanks bitch, now I have to go home and change.
The food was more like a work of art that you felt guilty for eating. I ordered the jumbo shrimp. I feel like, if the shrimp are jumbo, the portion should be too. Four shrimp and a few grains of rice only fill about 1/8th of my stomach. The highlight of my evening was when a friend of a friend told me I look like Angela Bassett. It had been a couple of hours since I looked in a mirror, but I’m pretty sure I hadn’t turned into a black woman. (Though, if she meant Angela Bassett as Tina Turner, I woulda been all over that shit. Don’t leave me alone in a room with a stereo and Proud Mary. Just saying.) Anyway, after a few moments of confusion, we figured out that she meant Angelica Houston, who I also look nothing like, but it’s a little closer than Bassett.
Afterwards we went to a lounge downtown. A huge place with a kind of buddhist garden theme, it was packed with people. The music was ridiculously loud and there was no dance floor. What is the point in deafening myself if I don’t at least get to bust a move? So, we had a to sit there and have a ‘conversation’, which is futile when the music is at that volume. Here’s an example of the deep and meaningful discussion I had with my friend:
Friend: hosjdbisd sndjhfosidhts aosknfoishgw!!!!
Me: What?
Friend: jdfg oopeojt nvfdihse soxckhx?
Me: WHAT?!
Friend: nxigdf mfhhgneo paweksng!! Hahahaha!!
Me: HHHWWWHHHAAATTT??!!
After that fascinating chat about quantum physics and the meaning of life, we decided to do a lap. That’s when I realised, about 90% of the people in there were between 40 and 60 years old. A room full of time fighters. Have you ever been checked out by a man with a comb over? It’s a little unsettling. I don’t think it’s ageist for me to say that it’s wrong for the over 40s to still be kicking it in the bars. Surely there’s something else they should be doing; you know, like, taking care of their families, playing bingo, knitting – there’s a whole heap of shit. I’m saying that mainly because the thought that I might have 20 more years of the bar scene ahead of me makes me want to scratch my own eyes out. The whole point of getting old is that you don’t have to do that shit anymore.
I lasted about 30 minutes in that joint before I had to get out of there. The last thing I need is a dinner invite to an early bird special.
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Tags: birthdays clubs, old dudes
