Dear 40 something Women,
My friend and I were the two thirty something gentleman at the other end of the bar on Monday. We were having a pleasant enough time telling the stories of our week over a beer or two when you two walked into the bar at the same time as that pair of Pop-Tartlets that sat next to us.
With that simple choice of where to sit, the arch of the evening was altered for all of us. We sat there attempting to enjoy our conversation though we were forced to try and ignore the vapid blather that spewed from the two Project Runway rejects to our left. We had to be polite when they kept interjecting in our conversation. They were forced to spend the maximum amount of time their attention spans would allow wondering why the tawdry lipstick, immature I-wish-I-had-some-depth gaze, low-cut high cut combination was not resulting in free drinks.
And you, our would-be 40 something friends, had to insult us on your way out. Because when we sent you that round of drinks, you two choose to read it as something other than we intended. We sent you those two glasses of wine because:
You’re usually more interesting at 40 something
Having laugh lines means that you know how to laugh and that is a great thing
We would have greatly preferred you two sitting next to us
We thought both of you attractive
So when you said “we don’t need your pity drinks” rather than a simple thank you that was the first moment when we pitied you.
Hope that all four of you had a good evening.