GNO consisted of an evening dinner and drinks. We met up for dinner at a reasonable hour, and left the restaurant a few hours later, thanks to craptastically slow service that resulted in 10 30-something women playing the "penis game." Because we're mature. We headed a few blocks over to the collection of bars that make up Mt. Adams. They were all empty. Well, I take that back - they weren't all empty, they were mostly empty with a smattering of older people - but no music, no activity. We went from place to place and eventually ended up at a bar called The Pavillion.
This is the last time I was at Pavillion:
Wow.
Of course, there's no one at Pavillion, either, and we can't figure out why Mt. Adams is totally empty, until someone looks at their watch and realized that it's only 9:30. Flashback to college years, when the pre-party didn't even begin until 10. The party hadn't even started, and we were ready to go to bed. Instant realization - we ARE the older people (** insert twilight zone music here **).
We got our beers and danced anyway, to songs that I've never heard of. All was going along well, when suddenly I heard the opening sounds of a very familiar song.
(side note: all of the scenes in color are from the NKOTB: Live in LA concert. I may have owned it. On VHS.)
Oh, snap. Did the DJ just call us out for being OLD??
He followed it up with another classic:
It was ON. He laughed at us and said that he feels old in that bar, too, because ZOMG, he was twenty-freaking-THREE! But it was ok, because he then proceeded to spin us a flipping sweet mix of the best late 90s dance music, ever.
It was a lovely night out with the ladies. Now, all I need to do is come to terms with the fact that I am "That Old Lady" that my friends used to point and giggle about, who thinks she and her girlfriends are hot stuff out on the dance floor. Whatevs. At least I still have my dignity, which is more than I can say for some of the girls we saw. Culottes? Really?
