For the past few weeks, I've been contemplating calling up ABC or NBC to share with them what happened to me the last time I was out and about in downtown Birmingham. I feel like it would make a great plot for an episode in a sitcom and that the world would be much entertained.
After enjoying an evening of stuffing my face with calorie-infested Mexican cuisine and one too many strawberry margaritas, my girlfriends and headed down to Lakeview to continue the evening's journey. The plan was to spend the rest of the night at Tin Roof ... however, it was like 9:30 and way too early for that. So, we decided to meet up at Rare Martini and hang out there until it got a little later.
On the way to the Martini, Janie and I drove past Tin Roof and saw a TON of people in there. It was packed; very abnormal for Tin Roof at that time of night. But in my mind, I saw it as our excuse to head over there early because everyone else was there and clearly it was socially acceptable.
We called the rest of the group and told them to just go ahead and meet us there. Janie and I parked and headed towards Tin Roof.
Well.
The closer we got, we noticed something was off. We passed a few older people walking in the opposite direction of us but just kinda shoved it off .... until we arrived.
I looked in the window, and thought I was hallucinating . Inside one of my favorite bars there were about 150+ senior citizens (60, 70 & 80 year olds) shuffling around chugging beer, hard liquor and house wines, complete with all their accessories: walking canes, electric wheelchairs, oxygen masks, the works. I looked like a sorority or fraternity house party gone way wrong.
All of a sudden, a combination of ultimate defeat and intense rage began to ripple within my person. I stormed (Janie would agree that "stormed" is a good verb here; I was quite upset) to the bouncer and the following conversation transpired:
Me: "Um. Xcuse. What in the world is going on here?!"
Bouncer Bro: "Yeahhhhh. They are from some retirement home around here, and they are celebrating one of their birthdays. But, don't worry. They won't be here all night."
Me: "Well, when exactly are they leaving? Because there is NO WAY ON THIS PLANET I am walking in there with this situation. Nope."
Bouncer Bro (who at this point is both humored at my conflict and wanting to calm me down at the same time): "Look, look. Come here. Give me your hand. It's going to be okay."
He then proceeded to mark my hand, indicating that he was giving me a free cover.
Bouncer Bro: "Come back later, and you won't have to pay cover."
Janie, who was quite embarrassed by my behavior, also got her hand marked, thanked him and pushed me away from the scene. Hindsight, I probably shouldn't have been as upset because it wasn't the bouncer's fault ... but I want to tell myself he understood I was just mad at the situation. Poor guy.
We walked back down to the Martini, warning everyone we ran into to not go to the Tin Roof (which was great because I consider that my community service for the year).
For a hot minute, I thought it was socially acceptable to hang with the seniors at Tin Roof at 9:30 on a Friday night. The experience is now referred to as "The Quarter-Life Crisis" - because it really truly was.
