The first day of yet another convention was wrapping up and mercifully happy hour was upon us. Like moths to a flame, vendors and attendees alike formed lines at the various bars located around the show floor to get their free drinks. I found myself in line behind a rather beautiful blonde woman who was probably a decade or so my senior. She was wearing a black blouse that showed just enough cleavage to grab your attention if her tight gray pants hadn’t done so already.
We started making small talk as the line slowly inched forward, commiserating over the long hours of the show and the 2 days of pain we had yet to endure. She was fun and beautiful but I had no illusions of anything other than a polite conversation based on the massive rock adorning her ring finger. As we finally approached the bar she ordered a bourbon on the rocks, to which I quickly interjected to make it two. “Oh is that so?” She replied to me with a grin, “I thought all you Millennials just drank vodka red bulls and craft beers?”