Having fun in a pub at your forties…
Being a mature woman at her forties I am not used to go out and visit pubs or clubs…
Yesterday night I had the good fortune [and anthropological experience] of visiting one of those modern [and noisy] places accompanied by my younger friend, co-worker, companion, and anthropological guide [savior maybe]: SHARONNIE…
We decided to meet on a "dance bar" called Banks, located on the heart of Tel Aviv, where we were supposed to part from one of our colleagues who decided to leave the company and depart to his quarterly surfing vacations to some Caribbean/Brazilian exotic islands…
(on parenthesis I would add now that the prospect of having quarterly vacations on some exotic island is COMPLETELY remote from any vacation notion that I might have, being a mother of two boys aged 12th and 10th and devotedly committed to my domestic chores… )
Sharonnie came to pick me up from my drawing/painting lesson on a cab and we arrived together to the club (on the way we had a typical vivid Israeli style conversation with the cab driver who complained about Tel-Aviv girls who are not "friendly" to strangers, in contrast to European young woman who supposedly open their arms to any man who approaches them… )
Upon arriving to the place, Sharon entered self secured and assertively a local which I believed to be a simple BLACK WALL… I followed her… (as from this very instant she became my GUIDE… )
The place was packed with people and smoke and we were seated at the bar.
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