What's My Age Again?

I have been called A LOT of things in my lifetime...and most of them at one time or another are true. Anti-social...is NOT one of the words that describes who I am.  Even back in the late 90's when I thought I was black, the early 2000's when all I wanted to do was be the 250lb member of the next great boy band or even in 2006 when I used to cut off all the sleeves of my shirts to make matching wristbands...I never wanted to be alone...I clearly just couldn't find friends.

Fast forward to present day and I am a mother-fucking social butterfly.

Even in Tucson Arizona, where the gay population consists of ONLY eighteen year olds and octogenarians, I have still found my niche in the social society.  Speed bumps like last weekend, however, make me fear for the next generation.

 I live in Lollipop Land. I say this because my "Luxury Under 30 Community" is in reality, expensive dorms.  When thrust into a job across the country that I had 16 days to report to and zero time to house hunt, I literally picked the WORST place in the world to live...in the WORST place in the world. Now, these are not labeled as "Student Housing" because that might ward off young professionals like myself. To me, Luxury Under 30 Community suggests urban professionals who don't quite have the means to afford purchasing a home but want the luxuries of a heated pool and gym to come home to after their medical residencies, entry level jobs, or grad courses. No no, this is the home of the University of Arizona where most freshman drive 5 series BMW's and the great academic scholars of Kourtney Kardashian and Nicole Richie are alumni...so for a radio DJ who in real life isn't making terrible money AT ALL...to the U of A kids I pretty much look like this:

Now, I have no idea how much money Roommate makes, I know he can afford pounds of horse meat, patchouli oil and probably the platinum membership subscription to "online buddies" but I know he does not make enough to afford dish detergent, laundry detergent, or Clorox wipes since he always seems to need to use mine. I do know that he can afford 50% of our rent and it isn't cheap. Aside from Roommate, I haven't really interacted with that many people in my complex because to be honest, they are all children.  If you think you have nothing in common with your neighbors, imagine listening to them discuss what their major is going to be or how excited they are to do SHOTS this weekend.

In the building's really nice gym, I get to re-live the bro's past weekend's shenanigans of "that chick from Delta Phi" and what a dick Professor Shultzman is for not passing his English Lit paper...

Now, I know what you're thinking...oh you're a DJ...you know celebrities and talk about Pop Culture all day...you must be in your glory. The answer to your thought is ABSOLUTELY NOT. While I love making money to feign interest in the lives of talentless people, rest assured that is not the topic of conversation I am looking to strike up with people I socialize with.  My few conversations with the children have resulted in the following excerpts:

Lost Boy:

So do you like wanna come over and drink later?

Me:

Umm, ok...want me to bring wine?

Lost Boy:

Sure.

Me:

What kind?

Lost Boy:

White

Me:

Ok...any preference?

Lost Boy:

Ah yea...white?

Me:

Yea, what kind of white?

Lost Boy:

Oh, I didn't know there were different kinds.

Me:

Yup Sport, there are.

(I did NOT go to his apt for wine)

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Girl 1:

So we're having a party later, do you want to come?

Me:

Oh, no thanks. I'm really busy.

Girl 2:

Omg, no, it'll be totally bitchin. Come on, stop by!!

Me:

Ok fine, you want me to bring anything?

Girl 1:

Omg yes!! We've been trying to find someone to buy us booze for like a month!

(I did NOT buy them alcohol) 

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Guy 1:

So, what do you do for work?

Me:

I'm a radio DJ

Guy 2:

Aw dude that's bitchin (apparently this is the hot word with the youth today)

Me:

Yup...bitchin

Guy 1:

So, what kind of music do you play?

Me:

Well, one station is like Top 40...the other station is 90's music

Guy 2:

So like oldies?

(I did, in fact, murder them both for calling the Spice Girls "Oldies") 

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So apparently, to these children, I'm a dinosaur. And I'm actually OK with that because up until this point, I use my apartment as a work week base and spend my money on hotels rooms and trips on the weekends.  I was talking to a co-worked of mine who asked me what I was doing this weekend.

Me:
Ritz-Carlton. Frozen Drinks...Evian Spritz..the usual. You?

Co-Worker:
Going to dinner at MY COMPLEX

Me:
Oh, what's bringing you there?

Co-Worker:
This guy I'm seeing. He's a little younger than I am.

Now, she is a very attractive and extremely sweet 45 year old. Nobody in my complex could be near her age unless she's dating the security staff.

Me:
Oooh how fun!! How much younger??

Co-Worker:
He's 33

LIES MRS. ROBINSON!! LIES!! 

Co-Worker:
We've been seeing each other a few weeks. We mostly just stay at my place but since my house is getting worked on this weekend I suggested we stay at his place.

Me:
Oh, and what's he do?

Co-Worker:
He's in accounting

Me:
Yea. Accounting 101. 
Well, you know that's the complex I live in right? You guys should come over for a drink!!

Co-Worker:
Oh?? Umm...well...I'm sure we'd love to...it's just that...well I might have told him I was a bit younger than I am.

Me:
How old did you say you were?

Co-Worker:
34?

Me:
To what power? 
Oh, well...I mean...I'm not going to say anything

Co-Worker:
Oh great, I'll tell him and we'll be by about 9.

Me:
If it isn't past his bedtime 

So 9 rolls around and I open a bottle of Riesling and I hear a knock at the door. It's Co-Worker and her beau. Beau I immediately recognize from the gym and can, without a doubt, claim that he is no older than 22...old enough to buy booze...not yet graduated college. 

She...looks like JonBenet Ramsey.

Co-Worker:
Hi Sean!! This is Trent.

Trent realizes I know he's a toddler and immediately tries to strike up a mature conversation.

Trent:
Oh Sean, I see you have the V12 CTS...I got an AMG G55 myself.

Me:
I have no idea what any of those words mean. Do you want wine?

So to recap - sitting in front of me is my 45 year old co-worker pretending to be 34 and my 22 year old neighbor pretending to be 33. I couldn't think of anything that could make it more awkward. But I didn't have to think anymore because IN WALKS ROOMMATE!

Roommate:
Hi Sean, Hi Trent, don't mind me...I'm just going getting some books and then I have to head back out to library.

Me:
Wait, how does he know Trent? Roommate doesn't go to the gym/in the sun. The only people he talks to are his random hookups and his students. Oh my god no!! No!! Trent is one of Roommate's students! Please don't say anything Roommate, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE just for once in your life, be cool!

Roommate:
So Trent, the TA tells me you were looking for some tutoring in economics, I have some other staff looking around for you but I'll let your academic advisor know.

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKK

Co-Worker:
What's he talking about?

Trent:
Ummmm

Roommate:
Oh, I'm sorry...are you his mom? Did you not know he was failing?

THANK YOU ROOMMATE, YOU CAN GO NOW!!

Co-Worker:
Did you lie to me about you age?

Trent:
Maybe

Co-Worker:
Oh my god, how old are you?

Trent:
24

Me:
You're a 24 year old sophomore? Are you some sort of retarded? 

Co-Worker:
Oh my god! I can't believe you are 24. I can't believe you lied to me!

Trent:
I know, I'm sorry!! It's just that when you said you were 34 I didn't want you to think I was too young for you.

Roommate:
You're not really 34 are you? Wow. You look awful.

Me:
Roommate, fuck off!

Roommate leaves and I look at co-worker to see if she'll do the right thing. Just be upfront and honest with him and explain to him that you're in a bad place with your love life and you wanted to attract a younger man so you took the opportunity and faked your age just like he did! Totally understandable!! You guys could be the next Ashton and Demi!

Co-Worker:
I need to be honest with you Trent...I can't be with someone who lies. I think you need to go.

Trent:
But I...

Co-Worker:
GO!!

So Trent leaves and I look at co-worker and realize, a woman will take her real age to the grave...along with any man who threatens to reveal it.