Fighting gravity

Last night we met some friends for dinner at an up-and-coming Mediteranean restaurant, “Cous Cous,” embedded somewhere amidst a “city” college campus. Yeah, unique name?

After consuming way too many meze, 2 bottles of Spanish wine, plus entrees, I could barely get up out of the booth to smoke at the bar amongst the 20-somethings that seemed to own the place. You know – the tall and skinny as hell young chicks being petted by drooling boy [friends.] [At least you could smoke at the bar.]


We moved on to see the rock-ska band Fighting Gravity at the club “Down Under.” The band was pretty good, actually. They played an acoustic set [we missed the first set – too busy chowing down.] The crowd was more of the same.

And I could not help but think, as I took in the surroundings, at how apt the name of that band, and the name of the club, was. I am no 20-something.

But, we did have a good time.


4 responses to “Fighting gravity

  1. Being a 20 something purely means you can get plastered, stumble into the gutter, trip over a trash can and spend the rest of the night in bed wondering why the cieling is rotating — and still being able to blame it on your age.

  2. So what’s my excuse? Pretending to be a 20-something?

  3. You do not need an excuse because you did not trip over a trash can. You merely kicked it out of the way.

  4. Oh, was that a trash can?

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