An Addendum

It’s 12:30 on a Saturday night, and I’m out with some friends. We all go to Limerick’s in Armory Square. I’m with Adam and Alex and a bunch of other people.

One of Adam’s friends decides he needs to smoke a cigarette, so we head out back. It’s a warm nigh, befitting the summer that’s going to be coming. There’s an outdoor area set up with a few tables and chairs. More people Adam knows are sitting at one table. Near them are two women talking. They’re both older. One of them seems more sober than the other. She’s wearing dark khakis and a long sleeved black shirt. The other one is wearing a black and white striped sundress and has strawberry blonde hair.

Adam and I sit down at the table with his friends. This puts me about five feet from the drunk woman. He friend goes back inside. For some reason, probably because she’s trashed, she turns to me.

“Hey, how old are you?”

No introduction, no lead in, just that question out of the blue.

“I’m 23.” Three expressions crossed her face right in a row. The first was a sad, “I’m too old to be here,” followed by, “23, eh? I can work with that,” and finally a sly, “Let’s see if mama’s still got it.”

“So, where are you from?” she asks

“I’m from Syracuse. Well, about 20 minutes away.”

Some sort of scene is happening behind us, so everyone turns to see what it is. As I turn back, Adam looks up at me, “Dude. What the fuck?”

“Look. I dunno. She just started talking to me.” He gives me this stupid, shit eating grin. “No. Absolutely not.” He just laughs at me.

“So, what do you do?” She’s starting to get coy. It’s kind of scary.

“I’m a student.”

“Oh really? Where? I’m not trying to pick you up or anything.”

That’s exactly what she’s trying to do. I’m just being polite, while trying to make it clear from the minimalism of my answers that that’s all I’m doing. She doesn’t really get the hint. “Oswego.”

“I really like your earrings.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad you don’t have those big holes in your ears. Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Tim over here? Hey, Tim, why do you have plugs?”

They talk for a few minutes. She’s confusing the word aesthetic with anesthetic. It’s sort of sad. Adam has also gotten up at this point and gone inside. He comes back out with the entire group that we showed up to the bar with. He leans over to me, “Dude, I had to get witnesses for this.”

”Thanks, asshole. At least she’s not talking to me, anymore.”

“So, what are you studying up at Oswego?”

God dammit, I spoke too soon. “I’m an Adolescent Education and English dual major?”

She looks at me funny. She’s so drunk she doesn’t know what those are. “So, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Ladies, if you’re ever going to cougar it up, don’t use that line. It makes us feel like we’re talking to our mother, and really, nothing is more unappealing than getting picked up by your mother.

“I’m going to be a high school English teacher.”

“Why do you want to do that?”

My God, the lady just won’t stop. I catch myself before I roll my eyes. “I like to read,” is the simplest answer I can come up with. I want this to be over as fast as possible.

“Yeah, but why?”

“So I can teach other kids to enjoy reading and when I’m grown up, I’ll have interesting people to talk to.” Okay, so that was sort of mean.

“Oh, that’s cool. I’m really not trying to pick you up.” I just shrug, smile, and shake my head. I’m 23, I’ve been blasted out of my mind before. I know how it is. “I’m just a little depressed. My friends decided to throw me a surprise 40^th birthday party.“ Adam can’t help himself. He bursts out laughing. “Let me give you some advice. Enjoy your 20’s, don’t marry young, and 20 years from now, remember this moment.” She gets up and walks away.

“You so totally should’ve hit that.”

“I’ll pass on that, thanks.”

“It would’ve been awesome. Just think of the story it could’ve been.”

“You know, I’m perfectly okay with how the story’s going now.”

“Whatever. I would’ve done it.”

“I know. But you’re drunk.”

“Shut the hell up. You and I both know that if you were drunk, you’d do it too.”

He’s got me. “Probably.”

Alex chimes in from behind me, “Dude, God must totally hate you.”

I think he’s right. Gay men on one end and 40 year old women in the throes of a midlife crisis on the other. Where the hell are all the really attractive 21-25 year olds? Seriously, it’s only fair.