His & Hers: Saturday Night Fashion
Apparently, I am officially Old As Shit. I hadn’t realized this until Alan and I – desperate to watch the MSU/Wisconsin championship game this Saturday – ventured to the bar next to my condo.
Quick back-story: I don’t own a television. It’s usually not a big deal, but when there’s a live sporting event (that determines if your team will go to the Rose Bowl), the system kind of breaks down. To his credit, Alan tried to be cool about missing the game (It’s OK, I’ll watch the DVR of it when I get home in the morning), but he’d had a pretty stressful Saturday, so I thought an attempt was at least in order.
“Let’s go see if Local 16 has it on. If so, we’ll order a drink and sit at the bar to watch it.” Alan seemed enthusiastic, so we both pulled on hoodies and headed out. Mind you, only minutes before we’d been sitting around in pajamas (by which I mean men’s t-shirts and boxer shorts) watching something on Netflix, so our idea of dressing up for a Saturday night out meant adding shoes and hoodies. Klassy, with a K.
So we rolled into Local 16, and after a few minutes, we gathered that no one sitting at the bar actually cared what football game was broadcast, so we took control of the remote and changed the channel. We Are Sparta!
Alan and I high-fived each other for walking all of 50 steps to find a public location to watch the game. And even if we spend money on drinks: it is still cheaper than cable. City living is AWESOME.
An hour (and a beer) later, trying to discuss the game, we were increasingly getting bumped as people reached over us, attempting to order drinks. And when I say people, I mean: breasts. Alan and I pulled out of the tunnel vision that had us focused on the television and realized that our local watering hole had a line queueing up on the sidewalk in front, and the people stepping through the door were dressed to the Nines.
Pretty sure these dudes were there.
Yes. At some point during the course of the game, the bar shifted from a local pub vibe to a club. And yet, we continued to sit and watch the game, wearing fleece pants and hoodies, while women wearing push-up bras and drunk frat boys filled the gaps around us. We finally threw in the towel when – as the game was almost over – the bouncer started collecting all the bar stools to open up space for a dance floor.
Walking the fifty steps back to my place, we rubbed our heads. “Do you think there was a special event going on there tonight?” Alan asked. After some thought, I responded, “No. I guess that’s just a normal Saturday night. I forget that while we’re sitting in front of a fire playing cards with a good bottle of wine, elsewhere in the neighborhood, people are doing something else.”
And, sliding back into my preferred pajama mode, I realized just how old I am. And I’m quite all right with it.
pithypants 
Sometimes it’s really fun to go out dancing and whatnot, but trashy bars and clubs remind you that you don’t stop going to them because you’re old and boring, you stop going because they’re awful.
I found the locals dress up on Satuday and Sunday nights including the kids.
Great story! People are funny! I wonder what the bandwagoneers thought of you two. You may as well have been on Mars!
I’ve gotten very comfortable with getting old and grumpy, in fact I’m really excited that soon I’ll be old enough to get away with being eccentric, just don’t tell my wife and kids that’s the plan
@ Mr Bunny Chow, don’t kept it a secret just let them find out for themselves and enjoy it , i do 🙂
Sentences you never thought you’d write: those beginning with “@ Mr Bunny Chow…”
I honestly could not be paid enough to go back to that phase of my life. It was fun while it lasted – I never met a bar I didn’t close – but I’m happy to be in my mid-30s with good wine and comfortable conditions instead of early 20s with bad beer and the stench of some jerk’s hoppy breath in my face. All hail, adulthood: no lines for the bathroom, and the floors are clean.
There’s something to be said for aging after all…
I wouldn’t mind having some of that energy back, but I’d definitely be putting it to other uses.
Besides, I’m getting to where I can’t hear across the living room, much less in a bar 🙂
Define “other uses,” as cleanly as possible. Ready? GO!
I really like where I have totally misconstrued you to be going with this.
That crossed my mind, too. But that’s another benefit of getting older – you say what you want. Oops, I may have done it again. So, okay, there’s lots of benefits that come with the confidence of age.
I can’t seem to stop.
If that’s what “old” is, then I’m fine with it, too! Great story! 🙂
Wait, how much of the game was remaining when you left?!
Murtagh: don’t even try to blame us for jinxing the end of the game. I know that’s where you’re going with this…
When I look at the clock and realize we used to just be getting ready to go out for drinks or to see a band at that time, I’m VERY glad I’m already in bed. Getting older is a definitely a gift (even beyond the whole not dying bit, which is really not what I was getting at. ha ha).
Right? I now get out of bed when I used to be crawling in it. That’s like an age-defining litmus question: What does 5am mean to you?
Love the Spartan wear…going to have to get some for the hubby and myself. We lived just miles from campus and my degrees are from there. That was a rough game…
I keep telling my husband to go ahead and order the cable stuff he wants – we are always going to some bar because our limited cable doesn’t carry the stuff he wants to watch. Over the course of a year – I know it would be cheaper (he can really suck down the suds – he is not a cheap date.) And he is a sports fanatic.
I am happy to be old…that whole scene saddens me for some reason.
You get that Spartan Wear. And I’ll keep shopping for the abs that are modeling that Spartan Wear. Because I haven’t seen mine for years.
I LOVE reading your blogs. You are never allowed to stop writing!
Thanks, Sparticus! Keep visiting. 🙂
Isn’t lovely getting old?
It makes me smile and think of good old times when I see others dressed up for a Saturday Night Live … been there … done that – a lot …. and don’t need it anymore.
A good glass of wine and playing cards just sounds fine to me too.
Just need to work our Fashion …. but that shouldn’t be a problem 🙂
Thanks for the great story! Loved reading it!!
I go out in slippers all the time. ALL THE TIME. I like to think I’m fooling everyone because with long sweats, they kind of look like snowboots, which is somehow better in my mind. Especially when it’s 85 degrees and sunny.