Spring Mix, Autumn Chill

It’s a Saturday night, and I feel the biggest urge to go to the coffeeshop and hang with my peeps. Go up, have something to sip on, feel the vibe of being a known face in a known crowd. Get a groove on and feel accepted by the company I keep.

But no matter what I try, that ain’t gonna happen.

See, the problem is that Epoch ain’t Mojo’s. Understand? The scene is completely different. Back during my Mojo’s heyday, I usually found myself surrounded by enough of the kind of people I appreciated, respected, wanted to be with. Even on the quiet nights, there was still a familiar face here and there.

But not so much at Epoch. Even though there are clumps of people there with familiar faces (old Mojo’s regulars notwithstanding), thing is that I find it difficult to want to be with these newer faces. Make sense? The taste, the consistency is far different, and for some reason, I just can’t think of myself asking names and seeking out their company. Y’know?

Maybe this is what getting older is leading me to: settling on a dwindling subset of my waning social life.

So, what do you people who’ve managed to move on do to keep your social circle fresh and growing?

Published by Shawn

He's just this guy, you know?

2 replies on “Spring Mix, Autumn Chill”

  1. Chad Pollock says:

    I’ve faced this same feeling. My reaction, probably similar to yours, is more or less to embrace the fact that I’m socially inept by choice. The more years I track up, the more I feel like entering my dotage. Even going to the coffee shop I keep myself apart. The only thing that mitigates this is my wife, who’s promptings keep me coming out of my shell. There was a time not too long ago when I enjoyed the company of folks a few years younger than I with whom I could share a beer, but now I not only don’t drink I can’t, and the coffee shop crowd is hard to hold conversation with without a strong elixir to make the interaction seem less banal.

    I suppose I’m saying: I’m a curmudgeon.

    1. Avatar photo Shawn says:

      Y’know, I think those’re the right words for this. Socially inept by choice, and in need of a drink to make the time with the young’uns less banal. Because, as I remember, them 20-somethings can get very, very banal.

      I’m learning that “the scene” isn’t about what’s going on at the mall food court. That’s for the kiddos. “The scene”, as it applies to grown-ups, is about your hobbies, your passions, what you do when you’re Busy. That is where, if you’re lucky, the people will find you. Special interest groups and hobbyist meetings always seemed so hokey to me while growing up, but now I’m starting to understand why they exist. You won’t find much support if you’re looking within the tribe; you’ve got to travel out to find your kinship with the guildsmen.

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