That’s right, folks. Ain’t no hidin’ it. I’ve even made it blaringly obvious in my blog name: I am a 1971’er. And yup, you guessed it. That means it’s my turn this year to step up in the 40’s Brigade.
Luckily, the fateful day doesn’t happen until August (the 24th for those who might want to jot that down…). Foremost coming off the ranks is a dear friend who for the sake of protecting identities (as well as any upcoming faux pas), I will fondly call: Ms Marshmellow.
Our friendship takes us as far back as university students. Both studying Japanese, we both landed in Kyoto (Of “Memoirs of a Geisha” fame) on an exchange program with the benefits of extremely generous scholarships. It was the perfect situation: Uni student bums, living and studying in a foreign country whilst spending someone else’s money.
Fast forward 18 years and Ms Marshmellow sends me a text to let me know she was planning a get together at Sydney’s uber trendy Opera Bar.
“Just a few friends, quiet drinks. It’s a NON-BIRTHDAY CELEBRATION,” wrote Ms Marshmellow in her usual low-key manner, emphasizing that there was to be no-fuss or brouhaha.
A few friends ? Drinks ? At a swish bar ? Sounded like a 40th birthday celebration to me…
Arriving at the Opera Bar, and spotting Ms Marshmellow et al at, the background scene looked so familiar: crowds, drinks, bartenders, pumping, loud music. And this iconic view :
Well, maybe we were about a week late from fireworks…
Despite the bar scene staying the same, it suddenly hits you that “going out” in your 40’s is significantly different. There are some stark contrasts that I picked up.
Allow me to share…
Latest threads and trends
Waiting in line at the toilets, I was left aghast at the evening attire of the 20-something gals.
Can I just ask: How does one manage to keep tugging down their skimpy hemline over their bum, while pulling up their cleavage t0 ensure their personalities are intact and THEN skip through crowded bars in 5 inch stillettos…all at the same time ???
Or am I just jealous that I can’t get away with that garb anymore ???
iCrazy over public loos
No doubt about it, the Apple phenomenon has swept through every age group. Our little table of
old farts the older generation were no exception. Pulling out our respective smart phones, there were the usual “ooh’s” and “aah’s” over the latest techie features.
But here’s the key difference.
We weren’t showing off the latest salacious viral video of a rugby player’s public toilet antics. Instead, we were in complete awe over the latest “ToiletFinder” iPhone application – letting users find the closest, cleanest public toilet. So cutting-edge !
Long gone are the days when my liver was made of steel. These days, all it takes is a maximum of 3 glasses of *ahem* low-end sparkling wine… and I’m hap-hap-hap-HAPPY 🙂 Shameful, isn’t it ?
Bouncers are actually lovely human beings. What a shockingly pleasant surprise !
So polite in fact, that when they were telling us off for stealing the wrong kind of chair for the area we were sitting at, it was with a smile. Hello, they even tacked on “please” and “thank-you”.
When did that start happening ???
Conversations during drinks, no matter how rowdy the bar is, are actually extremely civil. Yes. Using full, coherent sentences.
Topics mainly revolved around parenting, annoying, noisy neighbours and the in’s and out’s of in-laws. No updates on “who pashed who at the last party” or “which bro got so totally wasted”.
Continuing the party spirit
Long gone are the days when drinks at one bar meant a natural migration to Kings Cross and the seedy “Beef and Bourbon.” Instead, our after-party option was to play…wait for it, drum roll, please… “Pictionary”.
Pictionary. On a Saturday night. Woot woot ! Go crazy, people !
Unfortunately, having to pick up the boys on our way home, we had to skip the game…*ahem*
Before turning into pumpkins, we headed back to Nulla Nanna‘s who had been baby-sitting for us. In the car, I was gearing myself up for reality. There were terrifying images of my twin sons, suffering from severe separation anxiety, wailing and crying for their parents.
But, nope. They were fine. Having a ball. Clearly…
40-Shmorty. I had an awesome night. Why ? Because the after- effects were similar to when I partied in my 20’s and 30’s:
- I lost my voice
- The mandatory midnight Maccers run. God bless the Golden Arches.
- The next morning, my head was pounding like a jackhammer. What a cliche.
Turning 40 ? Bring.It.On.