I’ve confirmed what I suspected about myself long ago: the party train is no longer for me.
My friends had tickets to see Dashboard Confessional (well-known for Stolen, among other songs) and invited me along, and since I haven’t seen my friends in quite some time, I thought it would be fun to hang out again and catch up on life events. So, off we went via Lyft to the Cosmopolitan in Las Vegas. While the Chelsea was a great venue, the acoustics decent, and the view from just about anywhere pretty good (save for the 7ft tall dude who kept standing in front of my 5’2″ frame), the scene simply does not play into what I envision as an ideal evening out. People packed in everywhere, overpriced drinks, inability to carry on a normal conversation due to the noise level- you know, typical concert spectacle. Plus, the show wasn’t over until sometime around 12:30 am, after which the young folks line up to hit the clubs.
We did not hit the clubs.
By 12:30 am, I am toast. Unless I’m having lively conversations with close friends and listening to the jukebox at a dive bar, wrapping up a late movie and grown-up time at home, or checking out a celestial event in the skies above, the only thing I want to see at that hour is the back of my eyelids. I prefer to rise early and kick ass for the day rather than feel like I’ve been whacked upside the head with a cinder block.
No, I’d say the party train departed this station a long time ago and I have zero desire to board once again. I gladly leave the fun to the youngsters and party people of the world.