As old as you feel March 25, 2007
Posted by charmingbutsingle in Friends, Life.trackback
Most of my nights out lately have ended with me in bed before midnight – I’ve not made it to closing time of a watering hole in quite a little while. I don’t think this is necessarily negative, but given that my early to mid 20s are a collage of all-night bar hopping followed by greasy diner food or informal late night parties, it surprises me when I find myself yawning at 10:30 nowadays. With The Lawyer in town for the weekend and plans for Southern Belle to join us sushi at a trendy place downtown, this seemed like quite the occasion to see if a party girl remained hidden inside my reluctant-to-accept-adulthood self.
We grumbled when the terrace of the restaurant was closed for a pricey fundraiser, which meant we had to take our pre-dinner cosmos in the very crowded bar and waiting area. When we were seated at our table and selecting wines, The Lawyer decided to order a pricey bottle of champagne for the table to celebrate the fact that the three of us were hanging out for the first time in at least eight or nine months.
These situations are awkward for me. Both of my dining companions were lawyers who make much more money than I make. And though The Lawyer made it clear that this was her treat and that we were neither expected nor permitted to pay for the champagne, it exposed the financial imbalance between us. Don’t get me wrong, I’m doing fine, making enough money to take care of me. And my many lawyer friends went to school and racked up much debt for their law degrees. We all make our own career choices. And right now I am not the person who can afford those luxuries, nor am I person who expects her better off friends to provide them. I appreciate her generosity, but I would have spent this weekend drinking beers and watching DVDs if that’s what The Lawyer and Southern Belle wanted to do.
We toasted to our friendship and shared some edamame and some sushi rolls. And while we thought about which rolls to order for a second round, we also decided that a cigarette was probably in order. Feeling mildly mischievous from the combo of cosmos and champagne, we theorized about ways to slyly sneak out on the terrace without alerting the staff of the busy restaurant. We’d hardly be unnoticed – three drunk girls in jeans and sexy tops smoking amidst a sea of waiters with plates of cheesecake and couples in cocktail attire. We’d stand out.
We asked our server if we could discreetly smoke in an area away from the now-ending party and she politely declined, as we knew she would. But before she walked off the order our final two sushi rolls, she agreed to see what she could do for us. And three minutes later a manager was at our table offering to sneak us outside. As she led us through the kitchen and to the side exit out on the end of the terrace, unseen by the other patrons and party guests, I heard kitchen staff say, “They are high rollers.”
This seemed so very odd to me and was slightly overwhelming. I didn’t need to smoke. I’d been fine to wait until after our meal and I certainly hadn’t meant to inconvenience anyone. And I didn’t feel at all like a big spender, though it was clear that the pricey champagne was enough to earn our table the moniker for the night. There I was, the girl who’d budgeted all week to go eat a fancy dinner with her friends, an Accidental High Roller on Saturday night.
After dinner we walked two blocks to our favorite wine bar, which was packed. We sat on a couch and were immediately chided and made to move by the bar’s often overbearing manager, who insisted that we were taking a reserved table. Humbled, we joked about how quick the tables turn from one venue to the next and took over a spot with a few low stools in a high traffic area in front of a group of rambunctious partiers, aged around 22 to 40. Prom Date joined us and then a childhood acquaintance of his stopped by our table on his way to join the group of loud partiers. He’s opening a new bar, so we discussed the trade for a bit. After about 10 minutes of conversation we learned that he knew an ex-boyfriend of The Lawyer and that we’d hung out with his cousin in college.
At this point, everyone was feeling the effects of several hours of cocktails and wine (and yes, we had a designated driver in Southern Belle’s boyfriend, who picked us up later), and we were carrying on while keeping a watchful eye on the group nearby, where women were dancing on the low tables as if they’d never been to a bar before.
The next thing I know, half of their group has left and our groups have merged and I’m doing shots and then we’re all moving upstairs to a VIP table. Another case of the Accidental High Roller – I spent most of the night wondering how we’d hooked up with a group of people who ordered only full bottle after bottle of wine, who seemed unfazed at the $40 to $50 price tag on each bottle. How we’d gone from being forced to move from reserved seats to lounging in our private perch above the bar. Truth be told, I had fun, but was slightly uncomfortable with all of the fuss. Five years ago, I might have been overly impressed.
And then everything is a blur and the bar is closing and I am paying my tab and expecting to be kicked out so the staff can leave. But as the rest of the patrons leave, the cocktail waitresses set two more bottles of red on our table and bring ashtrays to us – this is a smoke-free bar – for the men to smoke cigars. I have stopped drinking anything but water and I’m so ridiculously tired that all I want to do is sleep on the low black couches in the dim light while the music pounds around me. I am determined to prove to myself that I can still do it up right.
And when I finally do get home and my head hits the pillow, it is 4:30 in the morning.
Mission accomplished.
Sounds like an interesting time indeed!
I can relate to the awkwardness of having more monetarily inclined people paying for things. It’s not that you don’t want to pay, but you can’t. Least for me. I always feel bad having people pay for me. But, when it’s all said and done they don’t mind, so why should I?
And I know the pain of the night out. Damned aging process sucks it right of ya. I remember the long nights out and even longer bar tabs. Then again, I also remember the hangovers and passing out. A tradeoff, but one I am content to have.
As I’ve grown older I guess I just don’t care anymore. The company matters, not how long it lasts. I can have a great time in the afternoon with the right people, even having just awoken.
Gratz on meeting the goal, but I hope you didn’t feel it in the morning, darlin.
I second that. These days, I seem to turn into a pumpkin (long before midnight, it seems). And as for being the least compensated person at the table - well, that was me even before I chucked it all to go back to school. The funny thing is, as weird as you might feel, great friends are happy to share their fortune - or so I’ve been told. As for me, I’m with you - a bottle of wine from the store, some DVDs, some conversation, and I’m all set.
I remember feeling a little elderly when I lost my appetite for all-night liver-damage induced fun, but I’ve come to seriously appreciate the low-key lifestyle of a few friends at my house or theirs or in a bar that doesn’t require screaming in each other’s faces to be heard. Getting older and growing up are two different things…doing what you enjoy, despite it’s coolness quotient, is a sign of maturity. That’s an attractive trait in anyone, but it doesn’t happen at any specific age.
As for being treated by successful friends…generally, they do it because they care about you and enjoy your company, not to showboat.
I can so relate to this story. Years ago I could party to all hours of the night with the best of them…now, you’d be hard pressed to find me awake after 10:30pm. Hahaha
Sounds like you had a ball. I could use a girls night out.
I still have nights where I’ll party till 5am when I’m in the mood and with the right people (particularly my baby sister, and my best friend, neither of whom I get to see as often as I’d like). And when it’s a party night, I down my red bull and vodka’s and I can party like the best of ‘em.
But for most of the time… I’m quite happy to sit at home with my husband and my cat and go to bed at 10 or 11pm. Especially now that I’m in Switzerland, where everyone smokes in bars again (I got so spoiled in California!). It’s a bit sad, but at the same time, it’s growing up, and I’m kind of ok with that.
Oh, I can so relate. Last night my 21-year-old brother and his girlfriend were in town. I think I sprained my liver.
I also have several lawyer friends and income discrepancy to deal with. I try to make up my part by being fabulously witty and fun
Girls night out til 4:30 in the morning, every once in awhile are a ton of fun! But trying to do that weekend after weekend like I used to do? Not happening.
Now big drinking nights out are planned months in advance so we can rest up in preparation for it!
Sometimes a girls night out is just the tonic you need!
I have no problem hanging with the high rollers and you definitely deserve to be there! I’m glad you had fun.
I think that’s awesome. There’s nothing better than unexpected upgrades to a night. You’re definitely as old as you feel/think. Sometimes I’m 16, sometimes I’m 63, and other times, I’m just boring 30-something… I think this upcoming weekend, I’ll be 23.
The title says it all. I’m in college and it’s a rare occasion to even find me out after midnight, let alone 4am. As for the monetary issue, like The Senior Senior said, “great friends are happy to share their fortune”. Over the summer, I jokingly referred to two friends that have already graduated as my “Sugar Mama and Sugar Daddy”, since I was tackling a full course load and had no time for a job. Besides, a fancy bottle of wine: $100, catching up with great friends: priceless.
Hah, just about every single night, I start yawning about 10 and I’m usually in bed by 11 or 1130. I stayed out till 1 on a weekday night last week and got NO work done the next day. And I’m your age, by the way. . .
As for friends who earn more, I can relate- as much as I love my friends, I keep wishing that they’d have the sense to suggest getting together in cheaper ways. I’m a bit annoyed with myself for not suggesting it, but I feel like the constant cheapo. . .
You shouldn’t smoke. ;-P
First of all, you are fabulous…and shouldn’t feel weird about being a high-roller, accidental or otherwise, once in a while. If you have friends who have the means to treat you to a few luxuries, why not indulge? You can always reciprocate by making them a great, home-cooked meal. It’s not about the amount of the gift, but how much thought you put into it.
As far as getting to bed earlier and earlier as we get older, it’s sad but true. Every now and then I surprise myself and bring out my inner party-girl, but at 35, those times are fewer and farther between.
I wouldn’t stress about the have and the have not friends. There will ALWAYS be people who have more money than you do. I hang with a group of very “pricey” friends and even with a nice six figure income that I bring in I sometimes cringe at the extravagent things they order. I have gotten over it and just let them pay when they offer.
I also know what it is like to be the one who has money. Sometimes I just tell my friends tonight is on me and it is because I love hanging out with them. When I do something expensive I try to make it part of a celebration for a birhtday, holiday, etc so it doesn’t seem so out of place, but most of the time I just agree on a place that I know we can all afford and I am just as happy sipping beers and eating cheese fries at Cooter Brown’s on a Saturday night rather than sipping champagne at a ritzy bar.
ah the old days. I remember when I was in college and hitting the wine bars when they had “wine for a dime”….$2.00 and I was rolling drunk…met some really nice guys that way (I think)
Opulence. It’s something I don’t think I’ll ever become accustomed to. I have some friends that make a minimum of six figures a year… usually closer to seven. And when they’re in town, they like to take OWC and me out on the town.
And they like to pay for everything.
It gets so uncomfortable that, on several occasions, I’ve had to bring it up with them and tell them that while I appreciate it, I hope that they don’t think that they have to do this. That I am equally comfortable renting a movie and making homemade popcorn. But they won’t hear of it.
The last time they were out, it was for a conference, so everything went on an expense account. They didn’t blink at the huge bar tab. They didn’t even hesitate to order for the table - the most expensive items on the menu.
And I go along with it because it’s what they want to do, and because I love spending time with them. They challenge me constantly; our conversations are amazing. But I don’t think I could ever get used to it. Even if I ‘make it’ as a screenwriter and I’m pushing home wagons full of money, I don’t see this type of lifestyle as ever being the norm for me.
I wish I had friends who’d pay for me - morelike we’d go Dutch or even I have to take them out for a pizza - costs less than most type of food anyway. It’s a priviledge to be taken out by friends and treated in such a way - maybe I need to change friends!
i am singing that Fergie song, “Glamorous Life” in my head right now, after reading this…..
Dang. sounds like i need to go partying in LA. I don’t think the phrase “VIP room” even exists in SC slang….
that is very true. I agree, at 21,I feel much older than my actual age. Abit more mature.Age is just a number they say