Happy Birthday, You Old Bitch

22 Feb

I’ve recently developed a complex where I’m afraid that I’m old. Obviously, at the ripe age of 26, I’m not ACTUALLY old. I’m scared that I am mentally old. I’m having a hard time staying up past 11 PM on school nights – I used to stay awake till 4 am like a god damn tweaker, dicking around on the internet and listening to undiscovered bands on their Myspace pages (yeah, so did I mention I’m old?) Now, I’ll pass out halfway through an hour long show taped on the DVR, snoring and even drooling once in a great while.

I’m scared that my dayjob has turned me into a middle-aged woman overnight who complains about the price of cereal in a grocery store (six bucks, really?!) and wears nothing but cardigans and orthopedic looking shoes. I just bought a new car- my first concern was that it would look too much like a “mommy-mobile” for a 26 year old unmarried girl with no kids.

So anyway, last night I’m opening my bar for the shift. A large group of young, extremely pretty girls (all of them blonde- is this some sort of cult?) is anxiously waiting so they can order their juice vodka shooters. It is a birthday party. YAYYYY. They’re drinking and laughing, and the men who adore them are desperately trying to buy them more shots and take them home.

On the third round, one of them proposes a toast.

“As we all know, it’s Amber’s birthday. Since you’re the oldest one here, Amber, we just all want to wish you the best 23rd birthday in the world! Happy birthday, you old bitch!”

Harrumph. Cue eye roll.

Then I make the conscious effort to remind myself that it is all fun and games. I, too, was like that when I was 23.

Lighten up, right?

keep-calm-and-lighten-up-3

 

And then they start squealing.

“YAYYY AMBUUUURRR! BIRTHDAAAAAY! WEEEEE!”

Eyes narrow. Change in mood.

calm slap

 

Way to make me feel like I’m 90 years old… I already carry hard candies in my purse and call young folks “whippersnappers.” It’s just a matter of time before I completely lose it and start buying prune juice in bulk and hoarding Polydent.

What happened to the Chrissy that took shots and danced on the bar? I really am going to make a conscious effort to chill out and have a bit more fun. Like this guy:

lighten up

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