I really oughta sleep now.
It’s Thursday, how the week’s flown by. Next thing you know, it’ll be Friday. Next thing you know, bugger, it’s been years, what have I done with my life?
Earlier in the evening, I went and met up with the boys for drinks and a spot of clubbing (yes, I know, it’s becoming a regular habit). We met at Siam Supper Club first, ‘cos one of us says ‘there are hot chicks there’. Our loser genes kick in and we mill around the bar there, where all the stools are taken.
At the bar are young women in groups of two or three, possibly in their early or late twenties, I can’t really tell. Adjacent to or near them are men, in their twenties, in shirt, loosened tie and work pants, in groups of two, three, four or more. The boys and I concur that both species are there hoping the other will ‘pick them up’. Both species seem interested in the other. The women really seem to be waiting. The men, waiting too. Meantime, the Siam Supper Club makes a ton of money selling drinks that will make both bold enough to make a move.
The men are young professionals. Work their arses off in the financial sector, as they call it. They have five year plans. These five year plans, together with their shirts, loosened ties and work pants, seem to impress the young women no end. I hope he chats me up. He sounds like he has a five year plan.
Me and me mates, in our thirties, t-shirts, jeans and sneakers, have a five minute plan. We order a beer each, finish it and move on out of the Supper Club ‘cos we’re afraid we’re gonna get shown up if we’re asked what our five year plans are.
So, do you have a five year plan?
Course I do. I left it at home though. Wanna come see?
Edit, edit: This post keeps on giving: this time from a 20 something female’s point of view.