Ok, so Sat. night at Rock Bottom, it's late, I've been talking with Devin and Dufel and I start to lean on Dufel's shoulder. A lull in the conversation, and my eyes start to drift shut.
Just then the bouncer comes over, shines a light in my face and tells me no sleeping in the club.
In my long and checkered history of club behavior, I've been reprimanded more than once for my actions on couchs in dark corners of clubs.
But for SLEEPING?
That's it, I'm an old woman now. Hand me the keys to a minivan, and a aura of respectability. I'm ready now.
4 Comments:
please.
take pity on those of us who are not able to rest soundly knowing our mother is far away in the kingdom of omaha.
please. i beg of you. for your kidlets...please....don't get old. canes are fine...medication fine...but- but-...
oh Lord please not the minivan. it's too soon. i can't take it.
haha,
your lovely kidlet Lou who just found something to rant about.
A sleeping club-goer is not an alcohol buying club-goer.
I could have given you my mini-van....
Just submit, it's so much easier and you have more fun once you're 'out'. And you don't have to have an excuse for dying your hair a nice shade of purple and wearing a fake fur coat on the fourth of July.
I'll bring the tea.
there's advantages to being old. Like seniors discounts.
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