
She liked bars. She didn’t drink or smoke. She didn’t go home with strange men. She was simply a people watcher and some of the best opportunities were in bars, but these were the boring 2020s. Everything was so politically correct, so sanitized that nothing was fun anymore.
Back in the 70’s, when rock and roll and women’s rights were shiny and new, everything was fun. There was no such thing as political correctness. Men and women were busy experiencing live music in bars and relating to each other in a way that had never been possible. They were high on life. The downside was that they were high on other substances too. They didn’t know much yet about the downsides of those substances, including liquor. Those were the Glory Days.
She looked around this bar stuck in a corner of the airport. Bright lights, men only except for her. She couldn’t hear the music over the intercom because it was too soft. The men were quietly talking to each other, but certainly not to her. They even looked like they were practicing political correctness. She preferred to laugh. She didn’t think she’d have much fun people watching in this place.
Even people her age had bought into the whole new sanitized world notion, except when it came to politics. That was where you found the passion, but none of the fun. The entire world was at stake.
Time to go. She would put on her headphones and drift away.
Thanks to Jenne Gray and CE Ayr for hosting the Unicorn Challenge.

One woman’s view of what I agree is an increasingly sterile world.
How does anyone ever meet anyone nowadays, when any approach can be construed as inappropriate!
I never thought I’d say it, but I remember the good old days when men were men and sheep were nervous.
Cleverly understated take on the prompt, Rosemary.
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I like the “sheep were nervous” part of your comment. Lol. I agree with 100% of what you said!
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Just a comment: I have never been in a bar … alone or with someone.
Nothing to do with your story. I liked it. But wondering if I missed something, some experience.
I met/watched people at bridge groups or lectures at the library. Found creepy crazy fun-less people there too.
PS I’m crazy but not creepy or fun-less. 🙂
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Thanks for reading and your comment!
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If you have to practice political correctness then it’s a bit like the old Hollywood saying that the secret to success is sincerity. Once you can fake that you’ve got it made. 😉
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Ithink you just made one of the points of the story. One of the things that bothers this child of the 1970s IS having to fake it!
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I had a male colleague who was strictly politically correct. – you’d never catch him saying a wrong word.
And yet, in his way of dealing with students and colleagues he was very subtly homophobic and racist.
Politically correct rules – as your story so well shows – creates a sterile society where people are afraid to communicate.
Respect for others means communication, and communication brings fun.
Let’s hear it for respectful rebels!
A great story.
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Thank you, Jenne. Yes, always been a rebel. Maybe just thoughtful rather than rebellious. Thanks for your astute comment!
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What a great description of the 70s. You’ve captured the feeling succinctly and accurately in your second paragraph. And then your final two paragraphs move the focus from one woman’s nostalgia to something much more significant, and again you’ve said it powerfully. I don’t blame her for wanting to ‘drift away’. Lots of thought provoking material in this story.
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Thank you so much, Margaret! I’m glad you enjoyed it!
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They don’t know what they are missing. I tried to keep it alive when I ran a bar, but it was nearly impossible in this overregulated world of ours. Those were the days my friend!
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They certainly were – the glory days!
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