Yesterday a colleague and I decided very much spare at the moment to go to Happy Hour. We ventured over to a bar pretty close to the office which is known for its Friday Happy Hours. The place was packed, but we found a window seat and got some wine. The wine cost next to nothing and we soon realised why. The white was extremely tart and the red bitter with a very strong tannin. Not the finest wine so to say... Sipping on our wine (which we still of course drank...) we looked around and realised that we were about 10-15 years older than everybody else. When did people get that young? Or when did we get that old? Because really, we are not that old!
For the next drink we went to another bar where we were not the oldest, but almost. At least among the women. When some girls in tight tops and deep cleavage arrived we very much understood that we are now old and grown up. Waiting for the bus going home later on I couldn't stop ponder about the our experience - When did being 35 become old? Another more comforting thought also hit me. Maybe we just went to the wrong bars.
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