west end old

Here’s how I know I am old.

I pulled up to a stop light on my bike on Wednesday night with Chris. A car rolled up next to us blasting the Pet Shop Boys.

West. End. Girls.

The people in the car were jamming along. I was jamming along. We all waited for the light.

“You have to admit, that’s a great song.” I said to Chris.

“Never heard it before.”

The light turned green, and I turned gray.

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