I found myself at a concert this past weekend at Debaser. A bar that has a lot of live music. It’s a nice place. Basically under Slussen. Nice outdoor area during the summer which I have frequented once or twice. But I had never been there to see a show. Until Saturday night. Marching Band was who I was there to see. Indie pop. Not really my style of music, I tend to stick to rock or country, but it was good. And they were quite entertaining. I enjoyed myself.
But as I looked around I felt very old. I’m 24. Very seldom do I feel very old. But I was surrounded by girls and boys. I don’t know what the age limit was at this place, they didn’t check my ID. Because I’m old. There was no way that the age limit was over 20. I’m guessing 18. And if it wasn’t a bar I would have guessed younger. Or maybe it’s just really easy to get into bars if you’re underage. I don’t know.
I do know that there were some young ‘uns around. My buddy, who is probably pushing 6’5” and me, pushing 6’3”, towered over the crowd. And it’s not like we were in Asia. Swedes tend to be relatively tall. It was because everyone was so very young. Of course, the benefit being that there was never any problem seeing the stage. Ever.
The downside being that I left the bar feeling very old. Grasping at my ephemeral youth as it passed me by. It didn’t help that I left at midnight because I was so damn tired and just wanted to get home, but was dreading the trip that was sure to take me at least 45 minutes because of the train schedule. It’s not easy. I leave bars at midnight. I have developed a wicked set of cul de sacs. My hip hurts. Still. I’m like an old man. Soon I’ll be left with nothing but my boyish charm.
Welcome to Sweden. Where being 24 makes you feel old.