Well that title should do something for my google search traffic…

And no, this has nothing to do with slugging Mr. Quirkyin my sleep.

But it is true. I’m a bit of a masochist.

From their website- Flannigan’s Right Hook playing a show at Kelly’s. Mikey is the drummer.

Last night, Mr. Quirky and I enjoyed dinner, drinks and KU Basketball at a local bar. Then, we decided to hit up our good friend, Mike’s band over at a popular Kansas City Irish Bar called Kelly’s in Westport. I always love seeing Mikey’s band –Flannigan’s Right Hook.

Because they are awesome, the bar was already pretty crowded when we got there at show time. We found room at a tall bar, next to a group of girls.

Shortly after we settled in, Mr. Quirky leaned over to me and said, “it’s a 21st birthday party.” He pointed out the scrapbook next to me, which I had assumed was just a scrapbook. It was a shot book.

Suddenly, I was mesmerized by this scene.

On MY 21st birthday, I stood on a chair at a Joe’s Crab Shack in Johnson City, TN and spelled my name in the air with my butt - stone cold sober.There was no drinking and certainly no boozey scrapbook for this straight-laced Christian College student. (Well, not until my senior year. Mwah ha ha ha.)

I had heard about these shot books before. Mostly from reports of the alcohol poisoning as a result of trying to take 21 shots in one night. But so far, these girls seemed to be still standing. In fact, it took me a while to figure out which of them was celebrating.

As I watched them, my mother hen instinct took over. Who was driving? Had they eaten? Was the birthday girl drinking water?

None of this was my business, but I couldn’t stop myself.

The birthday girl told me (with surprisingly very little slur to her words) that she was on shot #16. And she was thinking about calling it quits.

“That’s not a bad idea,” I said, despite the glare I got from one of the girl’s booze pushing friends. “Are you drinking water?”

She was. She pointed at a mug that appeared to be decorated by her friends. Geesh. These young girls are very crafty with their drinking rituals!

And then before I knew it, another question was out of my mouth.

“What year were you born in?”

WHY did I ask that?

Not only was it a question ending in a preposition, the answer wasn’t going to be pleasing at all to me.

1989.

Holy crap.

Really? These aren’t even kids of the 80′s anymore. They are kids of the 90′s.

They were 10 when I was shaking it at Joe’s Crab Shack on my 21st birthday.

10.

I am old enough to be 12 year’s older than someone who can legally drink.

Maybe it’s because I feel so young.

Maybe it’s because I don’t have kids.

Maybe it’s because I still get carded.

But I don’t think I had truly grasped how long I have been an adult until last night.

And time marches on….but next time, I’m not asking. Hopefully.