There's Nothing More Relative Than Age

Have you ever noticed that, no matter what age you are, there are always times when you feel like you're still a child, whereas other times you feel "over the hill"? Intellectually, I know that I am still young - not even 30 yet. But there are times when I feel like my heyday has passed. For instance, watching my friends live milestones, like having their first child, that seem to have just passed me by. Or trying to find people to go out to bars with on a Saturday night, just to realize that most of my friends have outgrown my favorite pastime. On the other hand, put me in a room full of businessmen, and I suddenly feel unsophisticated and young. Or a family reunion - my grandmother still calls me one of the "kids" and makes me feel like I'm 12 again.

Last night, however, I felt depressingly old. My friend Mike from college was visiting, and he wanted to go out in the infamous "Marina," land of anorexic college students with died blonde hair and overgrown frat boys. I thought, "what the heck. I'm single now. Might as well go out and see if I can meet some people." Plus anything would be better than sitting on my couch wallowing in depression. So I agreed to give it a try.

The bar we ended up in was the typical Marina Bar. Generic atmosphere with nothing in the way of decor, except for 21 year old girls decked out in their skimpiest clothes. (Now, I am not making fun of these girls. I admit there was a time when I too would put on a mini-skirt and a backless tank top during 30 degree weather to hit the clubs. All I'm saying is that my time for that has long passed.) I walked past a row of guys having the average age of perhaps 24 at the most and sat myself on a bar stool in the corner, feeling like an old hag. Then, a man came towards me smiling. "He's almost my age," I thought as I ordered a drink. "What kind of Hangar do you recommend," I asked the only person in the bar who would speak to me. "The mandarin is really good with soda," he replied (and it was). "Great," I thought, "looks like I made a new friend." However, my new friend was actually the bartender. The person I was tipping was the only male in the place who gave me a second glance.

On the other hand, my friend Mike was instantly popular with the ladies. There's nothing more enticing to young 20-something girls than an attractive, successful 30 year old man. In contrast, the only thing on a 22 year old guy's mind is a younger girl (except for the odd guy with a "cougar" fetish, and I like to think I have not yet reached that status yet). Mike instantly engaged a waifishly thin 22 year old art student in conversation. She was hanging on his every word, looking like she won the Marina lottery. I was stuck in the corner, my only conversation consisting of small talk with my new friend the bartender about how good my mandarin Hangar and soda was and some chitchat from the college student sitting next to me (the deserted friend of the girl who was flirting with Mike). The latter conversation made me feel even older. It went something like this:

Kim: So what are the fun bars around here?
Marina girl: Oh, I don't really know. I'm not from here.
Kim: Where are you from?
Marina girl: Florida.
Kim: How long are you visiting for?
Marina girl: I'm not visiting. I go to school here. I go to the SF Art Institute.
Kim: [Thinks to herself, oops ... forgot that Marina girls are young enough to still be in college.] Ohhh ... that's fascinating [lying through my teeth]. I always wished I had artistic talent.
Marina girl: Actually, I study advertising.
Kim: Interesting [lying through my teeth again]. So what other bars do you like to go to? [I seriously could not think of anything to speak to a college student about except bars]
Marina girl: It really depends on the night. You never know where "the scene" will be on a particular night.
Kim: [is too old to really be looking for "scenes" anymore. Cannot think of anything else to say to a Marina college girl. Moment of silence ensues].
Marina girl: [Turns away to speak to the frat guy on the bar stool next to her who is oogling her].
Kim: [Sits in silence chugging her drink so she can leave faster].

Now does that sound like a fun evening or what? When I left the bar, I felt very, very old. Obviously too old to even attempt to hit on a guy at a Marina Bar (that is, if I wanted to). I went home and shed a few tears, feeling truly over the hill.

When I woke up, I was sober again (with a pounding headache, but sober nonetheless). I thought to myself, break out of this funk, Kim. I walked down Polk street to grab some coffee, looking at the 30-somethings frolicking around me. I realized again that I really was still young. In fact, my life has only really just begun, and I know I have lots to look forward to.

So, there are two morals to this sad tale. (1) Age is always relative. You can feel like a child again in some situations and "older than dirt" in others. (2) Don't go out in the Marina District of San Francisco if you want to feel young (unless you still require a fake ID, that is).