On Friday night Kevin and I went and saw Mortified, a knee-slapping funny comedy show in which adults get on stage and read from their teenage diaries. As the website describes: “Hear grown men and women confront their past with tales of their first kiss, first puff, worst prom, fights with mom, life at bible camp, worst hand job, best mall job, and reasons they deserved to marry Jon Bon Jovi.”
There are chapters of it located throughout the U.S., so if you haven’t seen it, I suggest you go check and see if it comes to your town. If it does, buy tickets immediately.
It’s hilarious. I promise you it’s worth it.
The show started off with the host asking for audience volunteers to participate in a Harry Met Sally orgasm contest.
Oh yes, you read that correctly.
People from the audience volunteered to come onstage and have a fake orgasm.
And the volunteers? They were fantastic!
To get up onstage and give your absolute best all-out-screaming-from-the-top-of-your-lungs fake orgasm, well, it takes courage and confidence that I just don’t have. Major props.
The show just got better from there. I was laughing so hard I was crying.
The venue was packed, and we ended up standing right next to a group of fun looking people,
a few of which we had talked to while waiting in line.
Our “line friends,” if you will.
Normally when Kevin and I do things like this, we go with a group of friends. It’s rare that we go to a concert or show just the two of us. While we love spending time together, we are together so much that sometimes we don’t have a lot to talk about. If you know us, you also know that we love meeting new people and making new friends.
Kevin in particular is quite skilled in the art of meeting strangers.
Without even talking about it, Kevin and I both started to do what we do when we are in crowded places and want to make new friends. Anytime Kevin would say something funny, he would say it VERY LOUDLY, in hopes that someone around us would hear his funny witty remark and decide to join our conversation. While Kevin was doing that, I started to inch closer to our “line friends” so that I could eavesdrop without it looking like I was trying to eavesdrop. That way, whenever someone said something funny, I could laugh with them like I was part of the conversation!
Though this sounds incredibly awkward (and can be if executed incorrectly), this approach usually works for us, and after about a half an hour, the group next to us had welcomed us in! We were laughing and joking with them as if we were all old pals.
When the show ended, two of our new friends asked if we wanted to get a drink! Success!
Now, Kevin and I knew these people were younger than us, but it wasn’t until we were out of the show, on the street, that our age differences became apparent. The girl was super cute, fresh-faced and hipstery, with a helmet attached to her jeans since she had rode there on her bike. The guy was equally hip looking, wearing some indie band shirt and some hipster hat. I, on the other hand, had come straight from work, and my business casual attire made me feel more uncool than usual. They were both 24.
I had been about to do a yelp search to see if there were any wine bars we could go to, when they started talking about cool warehouse parties, and asked if there were any good clubs nearby. Kevin and I looked at each other anxiously. We were all about grabbing some drinks, but a club was a little too out of our old person comfort zone. I told them that the bar at the restaurant across the street looked fun! They did not look quite so enthused, but went with it.
I am no age snob by any means, but as the night wore on it became more and more clear to me that I am old. As much as I like to think I am still a young early twenty-something, alas, I am not.
I learned about new bars and clubs that I’ve never heard of, music that is apparently all the rage, and the new drugs that the young’ins are doing these days (wtf is DMT?!?!). Our new friends tried to convince us to go to Burning Man with them. Kevin told them that ship had sailed for him, and I said that I was old enough to know that walking around naked in a desert and getting sand in my vagina just wasn’t something that really appealed to me.
As the night wore on I got more comfortable with our new friends, so when I suggested we take a group photo, I kind of sort of grabbed her boob. She looked momentarily alarmed, but Kevin told her to just go with it, it’s what I do, and I believe I said “this means we are real friends now!”
Please excuse the crappy quality. My iPhone camera sucks.
By 1 am I was trying hard to suppress my yawns, lest I show my age, but when they suggested we move on to some cool new place I’d never heard of, Kevin and I decided to end the facade and call it a night. We said goodbye to our new friends, exchanged numbers, and hopped in a taxi.
When I woke up the next morning, feeling less than stellar,
I said to Kevin “last night made me feel old.”
“You are old.”
Ugh. Say it ain’t so.