I probably started clubbing way too early in life. I remember being the kid in the club that was owned by my aunt’s boyfriend in New Jersey. I would sit in the coat or the guest room and laugh at the old people dancing to club music. In all actuality, they probably weren’t that old, but, to me, they were ancient. There were all types back then — from the old men looking for a young chick to the older ladies getting mad that all of the men their age were chasing young chicks. Once I became of legal age to partake in club activities, it was short-lived. Sure, New York City had some of the best clubs when I was in college, but the scene grew old. And so did the men.

When someone mentions heading to a club nowadays, I cringe and immediately try to talk them out of it. It’s not that I don’t like good music, I’m just not a fan of the old men at the club. For some reason I seem to be an old man magnet, and once I enter a club, one of three invisible stickers appears on my forehead.

Sticker #1: The “Hey Baby Girl” Sticker
This is what men who are old enough to be my father tend to refer to me as. “Hey baby girl, can I buy you a drink?” I think I turn down more drinks than I accept, just so I won’t have to be bothered with entertaining conversation with the AARP population.

Sticker #2: The “Let Me Tell You All The Things I Can Do For You” Sticker
I’m going to assume this line has worked for many older men in the club. This statement usually follows the “Hey Baby Girl” comment, and typically my response is, “The only thing you can do is introduce me to your son.” Conversation ended.

Sticker #3: The “I Love Men In Steve Harvey and Short Suits” Sticker
I’m not sure if every old man at the club shops at K&G or Harold Pener Man of Fashion, but they always pull out their best Zoot suit for a night at the club. And don’t let it be summer, you’ll find the men in their adult garanimals short suits. You know the outfits that are sold all on one hanger? Yes, adult garanimals, because they have to coordinate.

Several years ago, I vowed to never step into a club again. At my age, I feel that I’ll stick with a simple Happy Hour, or better yet, buy a bottle for the house and crank up the speakers, at least then I know I’ll be safe from the geriatric crowd.

Do you think there’s an age that’s too old for the club?

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