Funny thing about getting old. Unless you look in the mirror, you don’t typically FEEL old. I, for example, usually feel as if I’m still 19.
Yeah, I can hear my wife saying, and you act like it, too. When I hear that, I just jump on my skateboard and fall down.
Anyway, I was reminded the other night just how old I actually am. We showed up at The Steam Plant Grill for Happy Hour, having made plans to join friends there. So we walked up to the 20-something woman working as that evening’s maitre d’ and told her we were meeting another couple.
“Oh,” she said, “you mean the old people?”
Ummmm, what? My wife and I looked at each other. Then I turned to the woman.
“You mean old like us?” I asked.
My sarcasm didn’t faze her. “Right this way,” she said, her smile brighter than a Ramos Fizz.
Good thing the beer (mine was the pilsner above; my aged friend opted for something darker and more bitter) was cold and the Happy Hour appetizers were cheap and tasty. Good thing, too. Otherwise, I might have stamped my old foot and had an old person’s pout.
Under the Smokestacks: serving all ages.