Twenty-two year olds

So I was out having a drink with some friends this evening. And as the evening progressed our group began to disperse while the bar got more crowded. Anyway, at some point only one of my friends remained, a classically attractive blonde woman.

We were catching up and talking about different things, when the empty spaces around our table was filled by a bunch of twenty-two year old women on a night out. This resulted in two parallel sets of conversations going on, until my friend needed to go to the toilet. I was tooling around on my phone when first one of the young women engaged me in conversation. Asking about my friend. Asking if she was my girlfriend. Asking if I wished she was my girlfriend. How did we meet.

I slowly explained that we met on Twitter, and that we have a lot of common interests and so bond over that. And no, I’m not interested in her being my girlfriend. And then I did something that she could not process. I explained that I’m married. To someone else. I have two young kids. I am just hanging out meeting a friend talking about things we care about.

This drew the confused ire of the entire flock of twenty-two year olds.

How is it possible you care about the same things? That’s so wonderful! How can you find her interesting and not want her to be your girlfriend. We’ve never met anyone from Twitter or Tinder (sic). Does your wife know you’re out with her? How could you do this to your wife?

This went on and on and I was super patiently trying to reiterate the same story until my friend returned to join us. We managed to get them to a place where they exclaimed “it’s really cool… as long as your wife knows you’re out with her.”

I think we just blew the minds of three young women from Northampton. And recalled how stupid twenty-two year olds are.