It's funny to think that there was a time not too long ago in my life where I danced on bars, got hangovers with an alarming frequency, and went out four nights a week. I spent a good portion of my 20s sleep deprived and dehydrated, like it was a right of passage, but with age 30 came this strange thing called maturity and responsibility. And while the party is far from over in my life, it's now taken on overtones of a quiet dinner followed by a glass of port. Ms. K, who ironically is only 24 years old, has also mellowed from her free wheeling gal about town days too. My oh my.
We're okay with this, really we are, but now and again we are reminded that our tastes and habits have shifted in the couple of years since meeting. Take Saturday night when I thought it might be nice to meet Ms. K for a drink at 11:30 pm after she got off from work. A nice idea, yes, but it became clear that both of us were out of practice.
We tiredly drank a couple of rounds at Superfine and as the time grew long after midnight, we negotiated the remainder of our evening.
"Do you want to get another drink or do you want to go home?"
I yawned. "I can go both ways. Do you want to go home?"
Ms. K yawned. "Only if you want to go home."
God, we were like two old ladies, but two old ladies determined to recapture some of our past glory while simultaneously longing for our bed.
"One more drink!"
I yawned again.
By the time we finished our third round, we decided to leave and find an open restaurant even though it was nearing 2 am. Crazy. We should have just gone home, but instead we stubbornly took a car to Park Slope to see if Blue Ribbon still was open. It was, and in the car over I found a pack of Camel Lights on the back seat.
For a second I was excited by my good fortune. Camel Lights! That was my brand when I used to smoke! They're normally $9 a pack! I will smoke a free cigarette and recall the bygone days of my youth because I am wild and crazy! But then the moment passed and as I clutched the nearly full pack, I realized that some things were best left in the past.
Our hearts were no longer in our late night adventure, even though we had gone all the way from Dumbo to Park Slope at 2 am. It was time to go home to walk to dog and crawl into bed, accepting defeat and knowing better than to stay out into the wee hours again.
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2 comments:
I find that really amusing because my gf and I have that conversation all the time. We're at some party, and I get the feeling I'd really rather be in bed reading a book. I look at her and just know she's having the same feeling. Barely in our 30s, and we're so old.
If you ask me, there is nothing better than a cozy bed and the warm embrace of one's beloved. Is that not what we were so eagerly looking for in the wee hours of our youth? Namely: our perfect match.
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