I strode into the bar with a smile on my face, expecting the usual good crowd for a night of “Ugly Christmas Sweater Karaoke.” ‘Tis the season, right?
I was the only person there wearing an ugly Christmas sweater. Oops?
“You are having Karaoke tonight, right?” I asked the bartender.
“Oh, yeah, it starts in about 20 minutes.”
Hmmm. Well, I was expecting three friends from my MeetUp group, whom I hoped would show up sporting appropriately loud holiday knitwear, so I claimed a table near the stage where the singing would take place.
I went back to the bar, but before I could order anything, the young woman bartender said, “those two guys at the end of the bar want to buy you a beer because they like your sweater.”
Well, alright! This would be the second time in this establishment where a much, much younger man (or men, in this case) would buy me a beer. I could get used to this!
I walked to the end of the bar and said, “I hear someone likes my sweater?” The two guys enthusiastically identified themselves as my admirers, and made good on their offer of a beer. I noticed one of them was wearing a knit Batman hat (in the style my Dad used to call a “granola” hat – you know, one of those knit hats with the ear flaps that narrow into long braid-like things that you could tie under your chin but never do?) and told him I liked it. He said he put it on since he didn’t have an ugly Christmas sweater, and the hat was the next best thing.
Turns out both these young men were mechanics (ooooh! guys who know how to fix stuff!! oooOOOOooh!) Both had tattoos covering nearly the entirety of one arm, commemorating bands they liked – one “death metal” (yikes) and one Pink Floyd (was he even born when Pink Floyd was a thing? Huh – internet I guess).
One young man’s mother had been a special needs teacher, the other’s mother had taught at the community college Angelic Daughter now attends — did I tell you about that? Note that the commonalities between these young men and myself were actually more between these young men’s mothers and me, but OK, whatever. A free beer’s a free beer.
When the first of my friends showed up, NOT wearing an ugly holiday sweater (but she was coming from another event and made a special effort to get there to support the MeetUp, so she’s excused), I introduced her to my new young admirers, inevitably getting one of their names wrong. He looked crestfallen, even though I had told him I was terrible with names, but recovered quickly, which was when I noticed that he had quite a handsome face and lovely eyes under that granola hat. Whoa, there girl, steady on – they offered you the beer from far across the room, before they could see the ummm…maturity of your face. Yeah, yeah, but let me just bask in this for a little while, OK?
When my other two friends showed up, our group of four women, plus two sets of three young women and one other woman at the bar were the only women in the place. Women were outnumbered by men in this bar by about 2-1. Well, damn, I could get used to that, too! (and no, it isn’t a gay bar. I don’t think. I’m pretty sure. Who cares, anyway?)
The only little dent in my jolly vibe was when I noticed one of the young men who bought me a beer with his head down on the bar, his buddy patting his back, the way you would if you were comforting a friend in despair. Geez, I hope it wasn’t just because I got his name wrong, or because he was crushed that the most vibrant and interesting woman he’d met that night was old enough to be his mother! (Don’t flatter yourself, Annie). He seemed to recover OK and walked out with his friend under his own power, so that was good, I guess. After I got home and retired for the night, I said a little prayer for those two nice young men.
These guys restored my faith that decency still exists among bearers of the Y-chromosome. Every man in that bar treated me like a lady and treated my friends with respect–I got a few high fives for my singing, and there were no inappropriate comments or unwelcome advances made to or upon any of us. OK, well, we’re all umm…”senior” women (but without much of grey hair!) so that might explain it, but still!
I’ll be going back to that bar for another Karaoke night in January, wearing a different sweater but the same perfume. I hope whichever regular sweater I wear has the same magic as that Ugly Christmas sweater (which I borrowed from Angelic Daughter! Maybe that’s the magic!)
Wishing you a free beer when you least expect it, I remain,
your feeling-kind-of-attractive-and-saucy-despite-my-advancing-years,
Ridiculouswoman