Where I learn that I am old

How I learned that I was old.

In a stunning twist of events, Vince slept over at his Grandparents last Friday night and Edward and I had the night to ourselves…

We were nervous and/or baffled. Nervous about receiving late-night phonecalls from his parents about how we needed to come and pick V up. And baffled because neither of us could remember the last time we had slept alone in our house together. I believe it was in 2008.

And I should add that we really had no idea what to do with this precious blip of time. (Please remember that I am a million years pregnant and if you were thinking that a ‘sexy’ suggestion would be obvious, be reminded that the only thing I am having an intimate relationship with these days  is my body pillow)

We’d gotten a tip that there was this cool pub that served Vegan food near the city and thought we’d start there. Who doesn’t like a cool pub?! And one that serves vegan food? Clearly this was a pub that was right up our alley. The tip included that the food was super. And since Edward and I are becoming increasingly old and decrepit, the idea of checking something new out was both daunting and exhilarating. Just the ticket for a Friday night.

We cruised into the parking lot. I waddled into the pub with husband in tow. We were seated and ordered drinks. And then I had this conversation with the (very young) waitress.

J: “I’ll have a coke.’

VYW: “Did you want ice for that? It does come in a bottle, you know…”

J: “A bottle? Great! Nope, I don’t need ice.”

And then she brought me a plastic bottle of soda. Classic case of misunderstanding. And also why did I assume the soda was going to come in a glass bottle? Because I’m old? Quite possibly.

It was still pretty early for a Friday night, Edward ordered a beer and we got some deep-fried pickles. And slowly the cool kids arrived. And then suddenly the whole place was packed with hipsters. Edward texted me, from across the table, the following:

“Everyone here is so hip.”

“Except for us.”

“Are we in Portland?”

I think we might have been. Or I was back in Victoria (BC that is), circa 1999 or 2000 and a University student again? The pub was packed with people in oversized glasses, men with scarves, skinny jeans, tattoos and very earnest looking conversations. Everywhere we turned there was another onslaught of pretty, disheveled girls paired with men wearing plaid and dark glasses. In boating shoes. With no socks on.

Man, we were clearly out of our league. It was almost enough to want to make you chant “One of us. One of us.” and then lean in and try to join a conversation about the challenges of composting in an apartment complex.

Ok, I’ll stop. Honestly it was a great place to grab a bite and hang out. It just happened to make me feel ancient and extremely uncool. Whatever, suck it up Jaime. You are approaching old and have never been cool. I’m rather comfortable with that now in any case, must have been the hormones acting up…

I have this feeling that this is something I should be getting used to. Or at least that Edward and I should attempt these hawt nights out at a place more our pace like  Cracker Barrel. Or maybe that we should make sure to be in the company of other people that could at least rub a thin veneer of ‘hip’ off on us that would make our entrance to this world a little smoother.

I keed, I keed… E and I totally don’t go to Cracker Barrel. Much.

xoxo a.m.

 

4 Comments

Filed under family, Florida, parenting, pregnant

4 responses to “Where I learn that I am old

  1. cuz

    They know us by name at said hip vegan joint.. so if you go with us, you earn points. (And remember, all places we send you for food will have hipsters)

  2. Jackie

    I love Cracker Barrel. I also have some “cool” I can rub off on you 😉

  3. Mom

    Ha!…maybe we’ll look younger when we get there?! xo

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