I was by far the oldest person at the house show
by decades perhaps.
This could have happened on other occasions
in my usual crew
but I didn’t know anyone in this bunch.

I had barely heard of one of the acts
through an Alumni group,
so we shared a school
but not the millennium in which we attended it.
Weird. Out of place. Alone.
I raided the fridge.
“Ooh! Hard lemonade!”
I found a corner and waited for the music to start.

Between acts, there were a couple conversations I took part in. Small talk about the changes
in the college
between centuries.
I drank not enough
to change my mental state.
I remained oldest.

The act I came to see finally took the stage:
the floor in the center of the living room.
She was young, nubile, cute.
I felt increasingly old being there,
but leeringly stayed for her set
and chatted afterward.

Then I stalked off
leaving someone else
to be oldest at the party.