Clubbing at 44

As a woman that has spent most of her life married, I really have had little opportunity to go clubbing. Every decade or so, my sisters (together or separately) would drag me from my rut and take me dancing or to a bar. The last time was before Will, over seven years ago. Jennie and I went to Polyesters and spent the night parting with a lesbian couple - one of which slipped me her number as we were leaving. (Hey, at my age, getting hit on by ANYONE is note worthy.)

So, I went out last night. And not only did I go clubbing, I went with someone I've only met a few times and don't know that well. After about twenty changes of clothes and two near-fatal anxiety attacks I drove off for my evening of fun and frolicking.

It wasn't exactly what I was expecting; both better and worse.

The Good

The new friend was easy to hang out with and very accommodating. And I enjoyed the upbeat music and the band - which was really surprising as it was The Space Rockers (shown above). The beer was cheap, and she bought me my first round. I got to watch grown men dressed in spandex hop up and down all night. And I had more butts, boobs, and hands rubbed against me in four hours than I've had in my entire life combined.

The Bad
We stood all night. Each time my friend had to light up, we had to go out in the rain. She isn't much of a talker. No one approached us or talked to us all night. And, I was nearly double the age of the average person there.

Would I do it again? Hell yeah! Just at different bars. (Do they have an oldies bar in Austin?)