So… 2015 is a big year for my friends and I. We all turn 50. And we can ki-i-i-i-i-ck and
stre-e-e-e-e-tch, just like SNL’s Sally O’Malley. If you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it
(somebody must have footage from Friday night).

What happened Friday night? Well… it all started when our friend, Cindy, invited the girls
(a group of us who have been friends since the 7th grade) to attend her art show. Since all of us could make it, we decided to kidnap Cindy afterwards for a night on the town to celebrate her 50th. That’s her in the middle with the cool black and white dress. 

After we visited her exhibit, Cindy’s husband suggested we tour the museum. We just stood there, staring at him. It was time to get Cindy out of there and buy her a cocktail with a sparkler. But then again, here we were looking all fancy, so we decided to go ahead and meander through the museum like a bunch of art connoisseurs.

It didn’t take long for our real personalities to kick in. The big spider on the wall was calling us. “Let’s make it look like it came to life and attacked us!” We have the best ideas. If we only knew the spider was a Louise Bourgeois valued at 1.7 million dollars we may have kept our distance, and stayed near the refreshment table where the chicken fingers were a-plentiful.

After they kicked us out (joking), it was time to go to the casino and check into our room. Cindy showed us her AARP card. We assured her… “Don’t be sad, you get free donuts now.” 

Soon we headed to dinner, and bumped into a group of girls that were “us” from 25 years ago. They were texting…we were texting. I told them “We are you from the future, and in 25 years you’ll still be texting.” I wish I had used my robot voice.

After dinner, my friend Michele and I passed Elvis in the hall. He was sitting all by himself on a bench. Simultaneously we turned around, walked back and sat down next to him — no words spoken (by now we communicate telepathically).  In our minds . . . ELVIS . . . PHOTO OP . . . GO BACK.

We ended  the night dancing to an 80’s band. It was fun, but a little weird going into a club at our age. I saw two men walk into the Ladies Room and decided to stay outside the restroom door and wait. When they came running out I said “Wrong restroom, boys?” In their defense they responded “We were trying to meet girls.”  Touche’.

Later on, some punk bumped into the birthday girl and didn’t even apologize. Our friend Sandy, who’s never mean, said “What a SCUMBAG!” Well… she was right. Check this out!

At the end of the night, we were quite proud of ourselves and our old bodies…we closed the bar! And as we walked to our room there was just one regret. Michele (who used to be a gymnast) turned to Cindy and said “I never got to do my one talent.” …to which Cindy replied “You are so talented; you can do a cart-wheel without spilling your beer.” Michele laughed, “That IS my one talent!” I guess we’ll have to save it for the next one. 🙂