Bingo? Really?

I spend alot of time in rooms where I am the youngest person. That's been the case my whole life. And I'm totally OK with that. Most of the time. The joke with my friends is that I'll have to drive the lunch bus someday. We have a lunch group and I don't expect that we'll ever outgrow the need to visit Izzy's (and Paulo if he's still around). So we'll need a van driver. And that will be me. Of course, I'll never remember where I parked the car, much less where the keys are, so we're going to have a struggle when I'm in charge of transportation. Still, it's not really a bad plan.

Last night I was not the youngest in the room with a different group of friends but might as well have been. On these occasions sometimes the conversation is enthralling...but other times it's about what new thing is falling apart after 40. Last night, I found the line. The line I'm not willing to cross. I actually heard someone say she wanted to try a Bingo night.

Stop this bus. I want off.