This being sensible thing is strange.
We made arrangements to meet at 6.30 p.m. This gave me time to put my face on, change my clothes and pack my banana bag ready for tonight after work.
Then the text came in, "Can I meet you later? I'm starving. Meet at the venue at say 7.45."
Suits me.
I've had dinner.
I've done my face.
Packed my bag to go into the office tomorrow.
Put out clothes to wear to the office tomorrow.
I've done another odd job or two, including this blog.
It's strange. We used to go out on a weeknight regularly, now it feels foreign.
I had a similar conversation with Dave the tradie this morning at the temple - he comes over every six months to check the fire extinguishers. I told him I was going out tonight. I told him who I was seeing.
"Off to the Forum to see Angie McMahon."
"Who."
"Look her up. Alternative rock. Melodic. Edgy. You might enjoy her."
"At The Forum, you say. I'm going to see the Hoodoo Gurus there in November."
"I'll be there too."
"On a Thursday night."
"Not looking forward to the next day," he said.
"Me either. The trick is to pace yourself. And remember if you dance too hard you might do a hip."
"At least tonight will be a bit more mellow."
"But it's a school night."
"When did we get old?" asked Dave.
"I don't know, Dave."
"But it's the Hoodoo Gurus. It has to be done."
"I know, Dave."
We bid each other farewell, knowing that we may meet up in the general admission section at the Forum in November.
It's a Gen-X thing.
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