An Out of Water Experience

We went out last night. And by we I mean a group that includes people from work and their significant others. Of course, my s.o. is in Minn. right now, but he was there via phone for a portion of the evening. Thank goodness for engineering marvels such as the cell phone. Where would we be without them?

Going out last night made me feel quite like a fish out of water and has inspired me to create a series of posts on the "out of water experience(s)" I have.

I've found that each bar or club I've been in has it's own atmosphere, a certain characteristic that makes it unique and draws a crowd of like-minded people. Now I should say here that I'm no expert on bars or clubs, but I feel that the smattering of places I've been create a diverse sample from which to speak.

The bar we were at last night was on the beach and definitely drew the late 20s to late 30s crowd (with a few outlying ages thrown in for good measure). These were the people holding on to the last bastions of their youth, reveling in their single-dom and "escape" from the real world responsibilities many of their peers have undertaken. I'm sure that a fair number of them were engineers - an assurance stemming from stereotypes certainly, but also from years of classes with the same type of people. Let's call it engineer-dar, for lack of a better word.

From the moment we walked in, I was overwhelmed with feeling as though I didn't belong, and certainly didn't fit in. It was like walking into a group of Lost Boys who wished they were back in college going to frat parties, living out a Peter Pan-like dream to never grow older than 21. The music was loud enough that my conversations were carried out as though I were vying for gold in the Olympic-level shouting competition, despite sitting outside on the patio area. Beer was spilled all over the floor (and my shoes) by guys trying to get lucky. A couple of girls were throwing up in the bar area. It made me wonder, why do people choose to do this night after night?

I guess I can understand it when you're an undergraduate in college, or in the general 18-22 age category. You are growing up, being allowed to sample from a menu of "adult" passtimes. You are away from the restrictions placed upon you by parents. I think that experiencing this growth period, the immaturity that comes from drinking until the world spins beneath your feet, is important. It teaches you limits and makes you figure things out for yourself. Like the fact that getting sick in a public restroom on your birthday is really not that much fun. Nor is feeling like everything in the world is coming at you from behind a thick cottonball-like haze.

For many of my younger friends, the bar scene holds an immeasurable appeal; mostly, I think, because they haven't yet spent a lot of time in it. It's an adventure they've so far been denied, either due to being underage themselves or due to being in a group of friends who are all turning 21 this summer. As soon as the last one of them turns 21 (in a few weeks), I suspect there will be even more bar time in my future - a thought that makes me inwardly cringe.

All in all, this beach bar was not my "scene," as noted by my roommate when I told her the story of my evening. Lately though, I've felt more and more like this when I go into bars or clubs, regardless of their atmosphere. Is this a sign of getting older? Or, as suggested by my roomie, a sign that I no longer have a need of the basic reason why bars exist: I have a s.o. I think I'll have to re-evaluate my feelings when Matt comes back to LA and we go out. That way I'll have a decision less affected by the emotional reelings of a long distance relationship.

p.s. How do you feel about bars that charge a cover to get in?