It's 3:30 a.m., and I woke up a short time ago. I remember going out on a Friday night, and regretting having to leave because it was closing time. Did that used to be 4:00 A.M.? After Ruthie got engaged in Hawaii, leaving her fiancé there, and she and I were teaching at HVC, we would go out every weekend, usually on Friday night. I always drove, as she had neither a car nor a license. We would go to different clubs or bars, the Country Grove, the OCA, Mario's, Raphael's, the Circle Inn, and a bunch of other places, but we probably felt the most at home at Faye's in East Greenbush, so that was our usual hangout when we wanted to unwind. We knew the owner and the bartender, and would occasionally go to breakfast with them after closing time, at Thornie's Diner I think. It was fun, in the most benign of ways; we were good girls, but we liked to stay out late, often arriving home with the rising sun. One time, when driving home with morning full upon us, R. said that if anyone asked, she was going to say we'd had a flat tire. I agreed, though I wasn't worried about anyone asking me, but neither would I have expected anyone to believe that we'd spent 6 or more hours having a few drinks, eating pizza, listening to music, dancing a little, and going out to breakfast with the bartenders.
We were never tired, possibly because we'd taken naps after work, but I don't think so in my case; I've never been one to sleep during the day, most likely because of Ma, who thought it almost sacrilegious to waste daylight. It just turned 4:00 a.m. and I'm not tired now either, but it's probably a good thing I don't have to drive home.
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