Growing up, I suffered through comments along the lines of, "Oh, you make me feel old," or "Oh, I'm dating myself." It seemed a legitimate sport in small town Indiana. I was always polite in my responses, because someday, if I was lucky, I would share in that experience.
Tonight, our new roommate, Hasan, finally moved in. He's 22, a student and bartender. Very charming, and handsome, and full of enthusiasm. He invited myself, 29, and Nick, 25, to join him at Club Greenhouse for a night of partying:
"You should come! I've been to lots of bars and clubs, but this one is the best. It reminds me of how they described the best clubs in New York, like the one that used to be in a church."
Nick and I responded at the same time.
Nick: "Oh, Avalon."
Croft: "Oh, Limelight."
The humor was lost on them, and I gratefully discovered that those moments will go completely unnoticed if you refrain from pointing them out. Yes, I had been to Limelight before it was Avalon, and before it turned into a mini-mall.
But now I'm curious to the moments when others held back from me, refraining, as I did, to point out a difference I may not have fully appreciated.
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