Sunday, August 10, 2008

One Martini, Two Martini...


Hubby and I went on a "date" last night. (Everyone say, "ooooh, ahhhh")

We dressed up to go in his convertible BMW and drive downtown Nashville. I even wore glitter!

Hubby looked me up and down and blurted, "Do you know you have glitter all over you???"

"Yes," I said through clenched teeth. "I thought it looked cute, sexy, young..."

"But do you know how much you have on???"

This time I just glared.

"Did you mean to put that much on???"

I turned on my heel and stomped towards the car.

"What???" he wondered aloud.

We started going fast in his zippy little Beamer. With the top down and the windows up, there was a whirlwind created in the car. Suddenly sparkling glitter swirled around me, as if to prove hubby's point.

"Great. I look like a snow globe," I grumbled. Hubby laughed.

The whole point of our "date" was to celebrate one of our bff's 40th birthday. She, her husband, my husband and I will all turn 40 within about 3 months of each other.

To celebrate, we are going to Marco Island for a four-day get-away. I can not wait!

But we couldn't let her birthday get away! She's the first of us four to make the leap into the next decade.

So we waited at an incredibly loud bar, eating appetizers and drinking margaritas and beer, for she and her hubby to show. She was incredibly surprised and I was already having that happy warm feeling from the margarita.

We decided to move down to a piano bar. The margarita made me feel a little saucy and sexy. The door man at the bar nodded at us politely and let us pass. We found a table and ordered another round and some chips.

Suddenly it hit me: I had yet to be carded.

What a buzz-kill! I looked old enough to be excluded from the normal drink questioning. When did that happen????

I reflected on the fact that there was once a time that I was aggravated by being carded: what a hassle!

There was a time before that that I was nervous presenting my ID to get in to dance. What if they looked too closely and realized I wasn't quite old enough. I wasn't being "bad," after all. I was just dancing (really!).

But tonight I was very much old enough, and apparently looked like it... Bummer...

As I began looking around at the crowd, I realized the girls looked so young. They carefully crafted their hair and their faces. Their clothes were stylish. But I wouldn't have been caught dead in most of them. Their youthful faces and youthful bodies looked anxious, trying to be "cool" but unable to keep completely still, fidgeting and pulling at their hair.

The guys looked like they were Abercrombie and Fitch models/groupies. They smiled and tried to look cool, easily holding a beer bottle and taking a swig every once and a while. They were handsome, yet they looked so young.
Suddenly, a thought occurred to me: My bffs and my peers that were my age have children that were the age of these people I was examining. Ergo- "these people" could (technically) be my children.

No wonder I didn't get carded!!! I looked like their mother!
Of course, I thought I looked great: young, put-together. But that was while I was looking at my bff's. When I looked at the kids in the club, I was looking at what "young" really looked like, and, sister, I was NOT it.

Horror and deep depression swept over me. I looked like a mother to these young, attractive people. No matter how stylish I dressed, no matter how I wore my make up or my hair, I looked like their mother. Ugh.

My ego took it hard. It was a complete TKO.

So, I ordered my second chocolate martini (which had followed my two margaritas).

The piano bar began to really pick up. The dueling players were stirring up the crowd and calling up birthdays, anniversaries and weddings. They sang completely off-color songs to the object(s) of their singing. And the crowd (and the participants) laughed and really enjoyed themselves.

The brides and grooms to-be looked young and incredibly nervous. I remembered being that person- about 15 years ago.

Then I looked back thoughtfully over the past 15 years: I have a great husband, great friends, fabulous children, a wonderful home... I LOVE where I am now. No matter how young- or old- I might look, I want to feel like I do now.

Suddenly, the fact that I wasn't carded, and even the fact that our stupid waiter kept calling me "ma'am" didn't bother me nearly as much.

The four of us were having a wonderful time celebrating one of our bff's turning 40. And as I stood at the edge of 40, I marveled at what a fabulous place it is to be.

I celebrated my revelation by ordering my third chocolate martini. We sang along with the dueling pianos. Our bff & I danced and hooted and hollered. She got called up on stage and we cat called to her like it was our job.

We ordered one more round of drinks and hubby showed up with tacky tank tops with the club's name on them to remember the occasion (which our bff & I will be wearing on the beach in Marco Island!).

Know what else? Our bff & I struck up a little conversation with a groom-to-be and his groomsmen. I felt like I was talking to my kids. They did eye us with attraction (as only enough liquor at a bachelor party can provide)- but I couldn't feel it back. My maternal instincts made me want to tell them to get a cab and go back home. It didn't matter that they had cute glasses with noses and a blow up sheep. They were still too young to be looking at someone my age like that!

Hubby cast appreciating glances my way as we came back up to our table. Was it the fourth martini, or was it hubby making me warm like that?

On the way out, the line had formed to get in, and everyone had their ID's ready. The security guard said, "Have a nice evening, ma'am," and nodded at me. I smiled.

Yes, he could have been my child (technically). But I was happy to remember that my children are still too young to care about drinking, clubs, ID's or any of that. They still argue with me because they want to watch a PG-13 movie and they aren't old enough. They still want to be old enough and big enough to sit in the front seat of the car- without a car seat.

They will, someday much too soon, be the kids going in to the club, the bouncers, the singers, the bar tenders. But tonight, they are very young. And I am not. And I am VERY okay with that.

Suddenly, 40 doesn't seem bad at all...


1 comment:

ThePrincessMommy said...

40 is not so bad . . . :0( . . . I am scared now of 50 - can't I just stay where I am at>>>