Last night I was sitting in my friend’s garage, drinking beer and noting how the skill level of beer pong players had dropped in proportion to our rising BAC levels, when The Cars’ “She’s My Best Friend’s Girl,” started oozing from the speakers.
“Ah. Gotta love The Cars,” I said to the girl next to me.
“Ugh, that’s so annoying,” she said. “I don’t understand all these new bands cropping up every day. And what a stupid name.”
Shocked, I said, “Um, are you serious? The Cars have been around since the seventies. They were one of the most famous New Wave rock bands in the eighties.”
“Wow,” the girl said. “How old are you?”
I told her and then asked her the same question (wondering what adult could’ve somehow missed The Cars on the stereos and record players of their parents).
“I just turned 19. AND I just had a baby a few weeks ago. Can you believe that?”
She lifted up her shirt and showed me her stomach. No, I thought, on both accounts I cannot believe that.