Birthday Bar

My birthday was on Wednesday, July 1. I am 22 years old. Why does that sound so much older than 21? I know that is something only the young would think, but it really does sound more...old. Not that I think I am OLD by any means. I have the amazing, wrinkle-free skin of youth to contradict that notion.

I went to a bar for the first time with my bffffff. And her mom.

There's nothing like going to a bar with the 45 year old mother of your best friend and watching her attract more attention than the two of you combined. She is pretty hot, even by 20 year old standards. I could tell she was enjoying the attention, but it was a little strange.

One man was brave (drunk) enough to approach our table and slur out some story about his friend who had his head shaved and his other friend who is 5 feet tall and couldn't see the message the first friend had shaved onto his head...

I sipped my margarita and tried to keep my judgemental thoughts carefully collected to share with bfff and hot mama later. I wanted to crunch his way-too-gelled hair between my fingers. I hate when hair is so gelled that you can see a person's entire scalp in-between the clumps of hair. He had good skin, straight teeth, a ridiculous tattoo of some sort of jungle creature clawing its way out of his shoulder, and the hots for some 45 year old mother of 2.

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A blog seemed like a good idea tonight. Most of my ideas don't last for very long; we'll see if this one holds out.