In the last couple of weeks I have faced a dilemma. I am 22, I am a student and I very much enjoy a large glass of wine. However, for more weeks than I care to admit, I have spent my Friday and Saturday nights in bed by 10:30 with a cup of tea and either Suits or surrounded by uni work.
The worst part is, I’m not even mad about it. I like that I wake up on Sunday with a spring in my step as I go and grab a coffee. It tastes so much sweeter hangover-free.
I am a 22 year old grandma. When I came home for Easter break my parents asked if I would be going out and confidently I answered no.
It wasn’t exactly something I had to think about- the town I live in is small. There are three ‘clubs’ that I have ventured to in my time and they’re generally populated with over-excited 18 year olds and leery married men. Not to mention, now my brother is of legal drinking age the thought of seeing his school friends out makes me want to vomit in my mouth.
So, how I found myself in the centre of town at 1am on Easter Sunday was a bit of a loss to me. It started at the pub the night before. I have persuasive friends and (more importantly) wine in hand, I agreed to go to pre-drinks with people that I hadn’t seen in a long time so it would actually be nice to catch up.
And I was right, seeing people I went to school with was really nice. On the other hand, revisiting the first (sticky, sweaty) club I ever went to was not so pleasant. Upon arrival a boy kindly showered me with a jaeger bomb (it was my own fault for wearing a white top) so I headed straight for the toilets.
After washing the residue off my face I asked the girl next to me if I could borrow her brush. She said yes and proceeded to tell me all about her love for Avril Lavigne (complicated was playing) and how someone had been stabbed in these toilets just weeks before (comforting). But in true girl fashion, we basically became best friends even just for the ten minutes we were in the loos.
This is what I love about nights out. No matter where you are, there will always be a chick in the toilet who will save your hair from looking like a sticky mess and have a right good chat with you in the process.
She then asked me which college I went to…
Establishing that she was celebrating her 18th birthday and I was too old to be there we parted ways. Not before doing a birthday shot at the bar of course.
And I couldn’t help but notice that her friends were my friends 4 years ago, just with higher heels and better eye liner. They were so excited to be there and I was getting sad that I had slightly outgrown what used to be my favourite night out. Realistically, it was the only night out I had ever been on.
I am by no means hanging up the heels (like I ever wear heels) but I think I have moved on and am okay sticking with bars where you can say more than three words to each other without being drowned out.