1) I stressed about shoes: There was going to be some walking and some dancing, and I didn't want my arthritic knee or over-burdened feet to give out on me, so I just bit the bullet and wore sensible shoes. I goosed them up with fishnet knee highs, but, as it turned, out no one took the least bit of interest in my shoes, and once we got to the club, you couldn't even see my shoes.
2) We carpooled in a mini-van-like automobile, and talked about purchasing school supplies on the way there.
3) We were seeing an 80s cover band called Tainted Love. We weren't the only people there who got discounts with our AARP cards (kidding) but there were a few of us. The rest were kids in their 20s who have no business knowing the words to Video Killed the Radio Star. When asked by one of us how on earth they knew this music, the cute boy in the turned up Izod collar with the topsiders and sweater around his shoulders said "From my parents" Ouch.
4) We were wedged in tight on the dance floor. Not only did I not have to worry about my shoes, but I didn't need to worry about my moves either. There was no room to move, unless you were drunk, then you took all the room you needed. I don't mind saying that I threw a few elbows. The drunk girl in front of me kept backing into me, and I didn't think this was fun when I was one of the drunk girls.
5) When the band played Bon Jovi, E's head almost exploded. I don't think she could have been more excited if her "jon jon" were actually in the room.
Here's another thing: There are songs from the 80s that I didn't like in the 80s. But when the band played them, I went nuts along with everyone else. Workin' for the Weedend? I took a bathroom break when that came on MTV 20-odd years ago, but you would have thought it was my favorite song. Also, I knew all the words. How does this happen? I've now downloaded it on iTunes, for peet's sake. You got a piece of my heart, you better start from the start. You wanna be in the show, come on, baby, lets go. What does that even mean?
6) I was wrecked the next day. I had five drinks in seven hours, couldn't have been more sober, and had to take two naps the next day.
7) We were shamelessly judging all the stupid girls in their short short skirts, and watching them get progressively drunker, and lamenting about how their mothers would feel. They were so drunk and trampy, and some of them were crying in corners. Oh, the drama. I'm so glad I'm not 22 anymore. Come to think of it, though, the husbands were kind of quiet on the subject of the trampy girls...
8) This has nothing to do with Saturday night, but it still made me an old codger. Yesterday, Rob and I were driving through town, and some 19 year old stud was jay walking, and when we stopped for him, he sauntered across the street like he had all the time in the world and owned the place. I laid on my horn, and he looked up and went "What!?" like we were interrupting his deep thoughts, and we yelled at him to use the crosswalk 20 feet away. But while I was ranting about how I would have liked to mow him and his attitude down with my station wagon, something made me feel instantly better. I turned to Rob and said, "Just think of all the disillusionment he has in front of him." We just laughed and laughed...
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