Going Out

My liver hurts. Perhaps that shouldn’t be my first musing but there, I said it. I drank too much last night during an impromptu trip to Hoboken with my friend Sara, and her young friend Leslie, and her friend Leslie’s seemingly much younger friends ?, ?, J., ?, and ?. I am 8 years older than my friend Sara, and I suspect I was at least 14 years older than all of Leslie’s friends. I remember vaguely thinking: wow, these girls are young, and then a paranoid thought set in: “Wow these girls are young, and I wonder if they can tell how old I am.”