For the 5 of you who actually read my blogs, I apologize for the lapse in writing. Rest assured, the sweats and night tremors will stop now that you are reading this. (Or just begin, depending on what you take away from my blogs) So I want to re-cap an evening I experienced recently where I went out to an unnamed establishment (totally not bay ridge...cough cough) where I realized how much of an old lady I really am.
I walked in like any other evening anticipating my Coors Light fix. The place was packed and being that my focus was on the delicious beer I couldn't wait to taste, I didn't notice the clientele surrounding me. I get my beer, take a refreshing gulp, release an "ahhhhh yeah", wipe my chin (like any lady would) and look around. That's when I saw it. Fetus upon fetus all over the place. Everyone I looked at seemed younger than the one before. I think one guy even had remnants of his umbilical cord still attached. I was curious to see if he had an outie or an innie but I digress.
The girls were disastrous. Tiny little whores all over the place. Some girls were so overly tanned it made my Irish friend look exotic. It was like Umpa lumpas on ecstasy. I had never seen so many children in one place outside of a day school. The music was blasting and kids were fist pumping and jumping around with so much intensity that their baby teeth were flying all over the place. It was becoming dangerous. I wondered if they had just started putting Similac on tap because this many mistakes in one night was alarming.
I couldn't hear myself think let alone talk to my friend about an escape route. I don't know if it was shock or curiosity that kept me there but I couldn't take my eyes off the whole scene. I positioned myself safely in the corner for fear of the temper tantrums that would erupt simultaneously once they realized the kitchen stopped serving animal crackers after 2. I wondered when I had entered crazy town but I was anxious to hop on the next train out of there.
Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse that's when it happened. The DJ starting playing Jump Around by House of Pain and after removing her pacifier one fetus said to another, "Omg this is the song I was telling you about that just came out, its amazing." My mouth dropped open from shock. I felt a wave of age hitting me. My wrinkles never felt so alive as they did at that moment. I could feel the gray hair setting in. I had to get out of there and fast. Before the phrase "Damn kids these days" could escape from my lips I grabbed my Irish companion and bolted. As I ran out I could hear the baby teeth crushing under my feet. The smell of baby powder and Balmex was so intoxicating I almost didn't make it to the door.
Once outside I took in a deep breath and let out a huge sigh of relief. Somehow the babies could sense my fear and a few came outside and busted out their candy cigarettes. When I realized they posed no threat I calmed down. I dusted off the baby powder residue, wiped away the drops of Similac on my arm and made my way to a bar where adults hung out. My grey hair turned back to black, my wrinkles receded and my sanity came back. I am not an old biddy by any means but when you think an iconic song from the 90s is a new release my osteoporosis suddenly kicks in. I'm grateful I got out when I did, if not I would have shriveled up into dust.
Moral of my story.....fetuses scare me. They are powerful beings when they converge into groups. Surrounding yourself with them will case extreme aging and depletion of brain cells. To my fellow 25 and over peeps, watch your back. They come out when you least expect it and they will turn what should have been a booze fix into a run for your youth.
Needless to say I have since enrolled in therapy. The nightmares have subsided but I can only pray that my experience with these newborns is a one time deal. Good luck and be safe, its dangerous out there.
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