Waiting tables provides me with more than just cash.  Sometimes it gives me joy, sometimes it gives me a headache, and sometimes it just makes me feel old.  The thing is, I feel exactly the same today as I did at twenty-whatever.  Yes I’ve learned things, yes I’ve “matured,” but really, I don’t feel different, but waiting tables, I’m surrounded by people who actually are twenty-whatever.   I usually don’t notice the difference, we like the same music, live the same kind of lifestyle, etc etc, but once in a while there’s a moment…

I was working tonight and I mentioned that my boss at my other job, let’s call him Monie Dore, had a white party for his birthday in late September.  I told the story to highlight how douchey he is.  First of all white parties are played and lame.  Second if you are going to have a white party, it has to be before Labor Day.  Finally, when “Monie” announced the party to his staff, he said it would have a Beatles theme and then started to sing, “Daydream Believer” to them, which we all know is the Monkees.

Okay, here’s the part that made me feel old.  I told this story to two co-workers tonight, one early twenties, the other late, and only one of them knew who the Monkees were, and only because she’d auditioned for American Idol a few years ago and was forced to sing Daydream Believer with a crowd of thousands in the Rose Bowl.  What???

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