Here’s what sucks about being Caucasian: I can’t fool anyone. Spending my twenties working super hard, worshipping the sun, staying out all night and pretty much having the best life ever has given way to a very sad realization in my thirties: I can dress like I’m 25, act like I’m 25, even hang out with people who are 25, but as soon as I step into that college bar I’m instant cougar status. Hey guys, I’m just here for the cheap beer. Hey, guys. Guys? Oh look, nobody even cares, at least not at The Varsity. I was there Tuesday, silently freaking out, when I realized that I wasn’t even close to being the only one in there, um, over 25. How come I never noticed that before? When it was called Magoo’s and we were going down as early as 9pm on Thursdays just so we could secure a good table right in the middle where we had an optimal view of the entire place and all the gorgeous UH students that would pile in there? Back then I wasn’t afraid of anything. I’d take turns buying pitchers of Magoo’s Mango with my 23-year-old school teacher friend from Brazil. She always got compliments on her ring-curled hair, and we’d make friends with everyone that sat anywhere near us. “What are you guys doing after? I heard there’s drum ’n’ bass at Grumpy’s, we go!” Those were some rowdy, awesome days, but even then, the place had its fixtures of regulars who were well past their college years. I was just too oblivious to notice. Maybe on Tuesday I was being a bit paranoid, but they were offering up every beer in the place for a dollar the entire night. It was a once in a lifetime sort of thing and you can bet I wasn’t going to miss it in this economy. They were the full-size mugs too. It made me wonder why it takes something like $1 beers all night to get me back over there when the pizza is still super good and the crowd is still so lovely to lurk. Hello, fall semester.

I shouldn’t even get started on pizza until I gush about that wood-burning pizza oven Russ Inouye and his troops finally unveiled over at the V Lounge. By the way, when the Vertical Junkies decide to do something, they don’t go about it with anything but full force. It’s like, “Hey! We want to have food in our bar. Not just food though, pizza. Not just pizza, though, authentic Neapolitan pizza prepared the only way it’s done and has been done for the past several hundred years, and we’ll take eight months to build the thing to get it right.” I can tell you firsthand that they got it 100 percent right. How do I know? Well! When I actually was 25, I was just leaving Naples after three years of working hard, staying out all night and worshipping the sun, and I can tell you–the V Lounge pizza brought me back instantly. It’s an acquired taste (“Where’s all the cheese?”) that is very distinctive and very addicting. I remember everyone in Napoli kept telling me, “si, it’s pizza, it’s the only pizza, pizza originale, now mangia, mangia!” What didn’t make any sense to me at all eventually became the only thing I knew and wanted, and now I can get it here. Thanks, guys. *Poof* You just made me young again.

Steel Pulse jamming with Rebelution

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