Another Saturday Night...

So there I am, driving home from a mini-high school reunion, and I decide it's too early to go home, so I swing by Bogie's, the watering hole I usually frequent on Friday nights. I snag a seat at the bar, say hello to the bartender, and notice immediately that the average age on a Saturday night is considerably less than on Friday. I order a Bailey's and coffee and prepare to make this a quick stop when...

A young man sidles up and strikes up a conversation. We find ourselves on topic number 76 in the book of things strangers talk about on a Saturday night in bars.

He asks me what I look for in a man.

I tell him a sense of humor.

He says something funny, and I laugh.

He complains about all the fifty-year old men lurking around. I refrain from giving up my age.

Time passes and I realize he's hitting on me. I politely mumble something about his being much younger, but he's not put off. "Live a little," he insists. "Throw caution to the wind." I wonder if he knows just HOW much younger he is. I begin to wonder myself.

I discover he's there to celebrate a buddy's birthday. A buddy's THIRTIETH birthday.

"How old do you think I am?" he asks.

Wisely, I guess thirty, and I'm right.

More discussion of whether I should go out with him ensues. Meanwhile, I try to gauge how much alcohol may be involved in his failure to discern the gap in our ages. Or, maybe he truly doesn't care.

Then another buddy comes up.

"She's not that hot," I hear him say.

I spend a few minutes trying to recall if there was any emphasis on the word THAT. As in she's not THAT hot, or just she's not that hot.

Either way, I pack up and go home.

Here, for your viewing pleasure...three "Hot Chicks" from the mini-reunion. L to R: Debi, Randi M. and Randy B. (Is it just me, or do I look like some kind of Amazon next to those two??) More pics tomorrow...