I’m sitting at the bar, two women older than me (I’m 59) are next to me, regaling the bartender with tales of how much fun they had earlier this year at a local “nostalgia circuit” concert venue:
“…and there wasn’t a bad seat in the house! We saw .38 Special, Jefferson Starship, and…oh, who was it?…Kansas?…Toto?…I can’t remember, but it was rockin’!”
It’s painfully obvious the GenZ bartender has absolutely no clue who they’re raving about!
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