The other day, I met up with my friends to play cards like we’ve been doing all our lives when our wives leave us. The night started well but ended badly.
We met as usual at the divorced man’s house. The rest of us see him as the “free soul” although deep down we prefer our situation.
We had a good time playing. As usual.
It was getting late but some of us wanted more. That the night would not end.
We decided, accompanied by the golden bachelor, to go for a few drinks.
Yes, we are grown up but we are still scoundrels.
He took us to a fashionable place. As soon as we entered, we realised that we were really out of place. There was a mixture of “separaduchos” and young people in which we didn’t find our place.
“I’m not going back to this place. The drinks are bad and expensive. You couldn’t talk about the noise and on top of that the bathroom stank. I don’t understand how this place is fashionable”.
The laws of the night are often indecipherable.
Because of our age, we know that those who do well and love their business tend to do well. But, perhaps also because of our age, there are businesses that we don’t understand how they can do well.
Surely, those night promoters have done market research and know who their customer is and give them what they need. Even if the door opens and you walk in unhindered, maybe it’s not your place. That’s what happened to us.
We finished our drink, yes, that disgusting and overpriced one, and went home.
The next day, we woke up with a hangover (last fucking drink) and went back to our lives.
Not everything is good for everyone.