This weekend I went to dinner with my friend, Stacey, to celebrate her 40th birthday. I met her and a group of her friends at a Mexican restaurant and we drank margaritas and laughed and had a lovely time.
There was a band playing, and by band, I mean two guys with white hair who were singing stuff that was old when I was in high school. We wanted to request some songs and they were happy to do Brown Eyed Girl for us. So we felt obligated to get up and dance.
And this is where it got awkward.
There were a small group of people already dancing. They were probably 20 years older than us. We of course giggled at their moves – like the man who kept the beat by shrugging his shoulders, and the woman who did the obligatory scoop to the left, scoop to the right, repeat.
Then it hit me. Is that what we look like to a group of 20-somethings? Not that there were any there that night, but would they sit in their chairs and snicker at the group of cougars trying to shake it? Would they do the cabbage patch (okay, we did it, but we were JOKING) behind our backs?
It was a humbling thought. When we were in our 20s, women in their 40s seemed WAY old. They were moms. They either wore elastic-waist pants or their teenage daughters’ hoochie jeans. Does saying hoochie date me?
We have wrinkles around our eyes (except for the woman who had botox, who looks amazeballs, and now I’m considering it) and our bladders aren’t quite what they used to be before popping out a few kids. We start yawning by 10 p.m.
Then again, we were out having fun instead of home on Pinterest or watching Tivoed American Idol episodes (what, you don’t do that?).
Also? I don’t think a 20 year-old could ever do the Dougie like we can.