You know you're old when...

When I first moved to DC, fresh out of college, I moved to Dupont Circle, where all the action is J I lived in the top floor of the oldest, most terribly decorated house imaginable. My apartment was a one-room palace complete with a 4-story walk up, peeling paint, an ant infestation, and about 5 minutes of hot water every morning.

I thought it was the most fantastic place I’d ever been! I was living smack-dab in the middle of Washington, DC, two blocks from the Metro, living my dream…living in a city, albeit poor as hell, working, and making it on my own (think the Mary Tyler Moore opening – and no, I didn’t throw a beret up in the air).

And long the way I discovered the Front Page – and bucket ‘o Coronas night. And my roommate and I…never missed it. Oh how I loved my Thursday night. We closed the bar down every Thursday, crawled into bed or the bathroom floor and then picked ourselves up on Friday morning, off to work with only a few hours of sleep, sometimes hung over, but mostly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed! I even started dating one of the bartenders, my roommate dated the DJ. And I thought, I will come to Corona night Thursdays forever! I will never get old! Ah yes, good times *sigh*

But somewhere along the way, I either had busier Fridays, needed more sleep, switched beer brands…but whatever it was, I took a couple of weeks off from “The Page” Thursdays (perhaps I broke up with the bartender and needed space?? I don’t know).

But I eventually returned to The Page with the great anticipation, remembering Thursday nights to be such a fantastic time. But as I stepped through the doors, something had changed. Yes, it was the same young, laid-back crowd with the boys that were trying to hard to be cool and the girls trying to look like they weren’t fresh off the campus lawn. But something was definitely different. For one, I coughed at the Marlboro/Camel light haze hovering over the crowd; I didn’t liked being pushed and pulled in the crowd; and when someone spilled their drink all over me, I didn’t laugh. What was wrong with the place and the night I had loved so much?? No longer the urban professional paradise I remembered but a jungle full of undomesticated, groping, crazy wildlife!

So imagine my surprise when my oh so young and adorable, 21 year old roommate asked me if I wanted to go to “The Font Page” this evening because she heard they have Coronas by the bucket! And I smiled, and said ‘no thank you, I have to be at work early. you have a great time.’

So you know you’re old when you opt for viewing the wildlife at the National Zoo instead of your local watering hole…the baby Panda is cuter than most of the guys anyway :)

Red