Day old bread

When are you too old to go clubbing on a week night?

I ask this question because it seems for the most part the answer is twelve. last night I, at 28 years of age felt past it during an impromptu spontaneous moment when myself and Gaz decided to throw caution to the wind and hoof ourselves down to G.A.Y for a deliciously irresponsible night of drinking and dancing. As soon as we paid our £1 entry fee and headed off to the bar to purchase one of their 'all drinks for under £2' we knew something wasn't right. Looking around I saw faces younger than the pint of milk I have in my fridge at the moment and there was a smell of baby lotion in the air, which unfortunately was not lingering after a hot strippers routine. The place was packed with guys who I bet my Madonna CD collection on had not yet received their National Insurance number. And here they were, out on what was definitely for them school night making me and Gaz feel like we should be have been sentenced to spend the rest of our days at the Elephants Graveyard (The City of Quebec pub in Marble Arch, where gay folklore has it, all the old queens go to die).

They may have youth but I could still fuck all of them under the table.