I was on the bus this morning standing next to two young men talking about binge drinking.

I didn’t really catch on for a while, but you know, I’m still new yorker enough to eavesdrop shamelessly, and once I heard the one with big hair and a small face say “yeah, when I get there I’ll just do five shots straight and then join the party. with a beer number 1 chaser, and then a beer number 2 chaser, and then a beer number 3 chaser, and then a beer number 4 chaser.” I had no idea that people planned binge drinking so carefully! True, I used to go to parties with tequila (carefully decanted into a rubbermaid drink container), lime, a salt shaker, and 2 shot glasses (it all fit so nicely in Gabulo’s purse), but that was less of a planned binge than a “I don’t like beer, and also for some reason people think it’s incredibly shocking and fun but in a totally respectful way that I do tequila shots” kind of thing. “I showed up and had five shots of jaegermeister. Is that 70 or 80 proof? anyway…”

So I’m standing there in the bus aisle, hanging on to a strap, and I thought “these whippersnappers!” and THEN I thought “heck, I am an old lady!” and then I thought “that’s fine. at least I don’t have to worry about adolescent alcoholism anymore. I’m so glad I’m not 19.”

And then I missed my bus stop because I was too busy eavesdropping and the bus driver didn’t open the back door. He said the back door only opens downtown. I should think not! Or maybe those are his personal bus rules.