You know you’re old when…

You know you’re old when…

This will take a minute to have me set the scene so hold on.

My husband and I went out to dinner in the historic downtown section where we live. It’s recently come into its own and has several cool restaurants, bars and a lively scene. We love to go down there on a Saturday evening. However, we’re normally off the street by 11 because it gets a little young. What do I mean by young? Well, let’s just say it’s a bunch of people that I can’t identify with and leave it at that.

On this night, we were down there later than normal due to series of accidents. We were wrapping up our dinner around 9:30 when one of my husband’s young co-workers and his wife ran into us. They are really nice and cool. They invited us next door to a bar that we had never been into. We’ve never been in there because they allow smoking. Ugh.

Anyway, we accepted their offer and met them there about 10 pm. After arriving and grabbing a couple of beers I looked around and noted to my husband, “Uh, we’re the oldest people in here.” My husband said, “No way!” Then he looked around and realized, yes, we were the oldest people there. At least we were for about 15 minutes until some older looking dudes walked in – thank goodness!!!

But here’s the topper. The bar had a live band and I broke out a couple of my best dance moves. You know, Downtown Julie Brown like. I was HOT. Until I looked over and saw my husband’s young friend and his wife looking at me like “Oh, isn’t the old lady so cute trying to bust a move.” Although they probably didn’t think “bust a move.” They probably thought something way cooler.

It was a watershed moment for me. And our cue to leave – STAT!!