Sunday, October 16, 2011

You know you're getting old when........

Mr. Moey and I all ready for a night out on the town
Last night we were invited out to a surprise birthday party for my work colleague's wife.  I know her really well, we often plan afternoon tea during the week just for girl chat.  However, with the exception of one couple the rest we had never met.  So I took my time to get ready, doing my hair, putting on my makeup and decided on my fitting jeans with high heeled patent leather boots.  Checked myself in the mirror and thought I didn't look too bad for my age, of course it can always be better (that's what we women think our whole lives) but it could be a lot worse.  So we set off for the restaurant and arrived in plenty of time for the surprise.  The waiter pointed us toward the back of the restaurant where there was a large table set for the group.  We started introducing ourselves when this one girl walks up to us and says, "ooh, are you Andy's parents?"  WHAT?  Andy is my co-worker and is a forty four year old man.  First I was stunned but that was quickly followed by outrage.  I squealed back at her, "his parents, are you serious?"  She looked afraid, and she should have been.  The last time I checked I don't think the women who inhabit the poorest third world countries could bear children at the age I would have to have been to have had him. 

We sat ourselves down, but quite frankly my mojo was completely gone.  A triple martini would have been in order but because I decided to be the designated driver I had to settle for a diet Pepsi.  That did nothing to numb the shock and horror.  Mr. Moey (bless him) tried to take the harm out of it by trying to convince me that she really meant he looked like like the parent because he's five years older than me.  Nice try but I wasn't buying it.  Firstly I was too busy trying to decipher the looming cost of obviously much needed Botox injections.  Secondly, Mr. Moey does not have a single gray hair on his head.

One thing I learned a long time ago, if you don't know people it's best to keep your mouth zipped.   NEVER ask people if they're pregnant if you don't know for a fact that they are.  NEVER guess a woman's age.  NEVER assume anything.

Our friend (or should I say new found son) Andy and his wife finally arrived and the surprise went off without a hitch.  It was a pleasant enough evening, the food was good.  The restaurant specializes in thin crust pizza.  I was surprised to learn it's been there for ten years, I've walked by it in the past without realizing it was even there.

Here is the link and the only picture I have is of my leftover pizza that I brought home.  For some unknown reason I had lost my appetite, maybe it's because senior's tend to have delicate tummies at times.

Spinach, mushrooms, roasted red peppers, bacon and Bechamel sauce.  Yum.

On the bright side, it's nice to know I now have bigger worries than the Habs' crappy play.  We got home just in time for the shootout (I'll admit to checking the score on my iPhone during dinner).  When all is said and done even though my looks are fading and certain things have shifted in flight I still have my Habs.  That will NEVER change.


moeman said...

Very nicely written Moey. I stopped at "decided on my fitting jeans with high heeled patent leather boots" defibbed and continued reading your delicious slice of life, then re-read up to "decided on my fitting jeans with high heeled patent leather boots".

Hadulf said...

Moey, I know you don't think so, but that's a funny story to read. I think you handled that like pro!


Moey said...


LOL I had a double shot of Amaretto when I got home Saturday night. It also didn't help that I PVR'd the wrong hockey game, Flames & leafs. Grrrrr.

Moey said...

Thanks Hadulf, but I did have a bee in my bonnet for the entire evening.

Steve said...

Hmmmm Pizza!
Maybe Andy looks twenty?

Moey said...


Yeah, if that were the case it wouldn't be so bad. He doesn't look twenty or thirty, he looks his age. C'est la vie. *sigh*