When 21 Probably Means 12

The day started out good. Happy hour and dinner with a few of my coworkers. Nevermind that they all had kids my age - it was still a good time. I've always gotten along well with those older than me, near my parents age. Not that I've ever been best friends, but being one of the youngest in my extended families lent me to be one of the last ones still living at home while everyone else had "grown up". Enter many weekends where I was the only one around under the age of 45 (minus the pets).

Night plans were set. I hadn't been downtown in so long. The surgery had damn near squashed my social life, and damn near my social energy.

Antigua is never my club of choice. To stereotype, it closely fits the mold that is clubs downtown that allow those under 21 to enter. But the website said free entry and free drinks, and since I was going with Stocking I was relegated to the likes of Antigua.

After a search for a free parking spot, because really - free entry and free drinks means nothing if you have to pay for parking, and walking the blocks to the club we are turned away. Well, not so much turned away as told it would cost $15 for both of us to enter.

Screw that. I'd rather get drunk at home. THAT'S free.

On the way to Antigua we got peppered with flyers for a thing Dragon Room was having. After the notorious night that they were charging girls over 21 $10 to get in, I had some evil feelings towards the establishment, but figured it was worth the effort before scratching the night.

Oh what a well placed afterthought can do for a girl.

I asked one of the bouncers what the cover was. He looked at me with a confused look on his face. Seriously, I thought bouncers were supposed to know that stuff. [I guess he's never in charge of the money.] He turns around to a co-worker, and before he can utter the question that guy steps up.

"Dude, anytime hot girls ask you how much cover is tell them it's free." As he shows us into the line to get carded and enter, free of charge.

[In hindsight of the day after, there's a good chance we got in free because the club was rather empty. But I prefer to stick with the thought that we really were looking that good, and well, the rest of the night tends to agree with me.]

The first guys that approached us were, well lacking in pick up skills to say the least. I mean, the worst way to warm up a girl is to point out the obvious. It was entertaining to see how much abuse they put up with. It was a lot. At least it made me smile.

The next was British fellow. He was here on vacation, but had knowledge of a pick-up artist convention going on at his hotel. Strange for him to have that knowledge. I honestly had this feeling that he was trying out those techniques on us (though he insisted that he was not part of said convention), but harmless fun is indeed just that.

After that, and some clever times between Stocking and myself, two Argentinean guys came up to us. We obliged more for the opening offer of drinks more than anything else. [I'll fully admit that I do this sometimes - but only with guys I'm not interested it. No girl ever turns down free drinks, well, if she's drinking.]

We ran off to the dance floor, as I managed to get Stocking pretty drunk. [She's such a light weight.] I spotted a cute guy, and put to the test the theory that guys really can be easy to lure in.

All you need is a hot girl friend, a good song (say Katie Perry's "I Kissed a Girl"), and a good sense of humor. Enough guys will be looking soon enough even without the requisite "lets make out" mentality of other females.

I pulled the cute guy over to dance, and his friend grabbed Stocking, and we dance. Much to my chagrin he was an awful dancer. Compounded by the fact that he just couldn't even take a guiding hip on how to follow the beat.

But he was cute. And they had a bottle in VIP. I was just out for a fun time that night. To recapture that bit of me.

I can't say I feel bad about going out and getting free drinks from guys I'm not totally interested in. I don't make any pretenses. When I'm out for a fun time, I have it - and make sure the people I'm with are too.

And man was it fun.

I think part of it was seeing Stocking in that element. In some ways she reminds me of myself when I was younger [wow, I'm really old enough to say that now]. Though she wasn't in as much of the party scene as I was freshman year, so I still have a bit I can teach her.

The night ended with an invite back to their "after party" and a lively political discussion on the ride back to the "party".

There really wasn't a party. Just the group we were dancing with back at their house. One still drinking, the other back with his ex, and the guy I was dancing with off in a dark room talking to someone in a room.

At that moment I remembered why I usually turned down the after party. No party starts at 3 am, only the parties that are still going at 3 am are worth heading to.

We left. Stocking just wanting to sleep, and me missing Abz like I probably shouldn't right now.



The next night I was getting sent insulting texts from a number I didn't know. The guy from the night before was the only one I have given my number to in the last month.

The insults stopped with my last response.

What are you? 12??

Sometimes the night really should just end as a fun, anonymous night in the lights.

~GF