A storm cloud of perfume click clacks past me and I suddenly find myself posing the following question: who on this earth could imagine that Monday night is worthy of Tonight’s The Night attire?

The question itself is rhetorical, mainly because I know that this kind of snarky musing is easily silenced with a nod to the time-honored fundamentals of life. This is always the case, no matter how short the skirt. These four young banshees (I can hear their Irish accents) are all out here tonight looking for something. We all are. We dare to take our chances at any opportunity that happens to drift across our path- even if that choice won’t win us any awards for being the most intellectually sound.

Monday night. It’s too early for these girls- both in hour and in day of week. Most decent people are just now winding down from an honest day’s work, and they certainly aren’t prepping to head out to wherever you ladies happen to be going. But you can’t help that.

I can’t pretend to know the story of this particular collection of young women. If you put me to guessing I’d say that they were of the J-1 visa variety, and thus they only occupy this city’s zip code for a finite amount of summer days. This is the lucky timing that life has handed them right now, and to their credit they are playing their hands with optimistic abandon. No consideration is wasted in wondering about silly trappings like hour or weekday.

In this regard I am slightly envious of their underdeveloped appreciation for time.

The longer I occupy space in the various benches and bus stops of life, the more I get to observe the rhythms of all the people who cruise on by. If I’ve picked up on any sort of pattern, I would say that it is this: the moment a person starts to become preoccupied by the passage of time, that’s the point where he or she starts to get old.

I don’t think that this condition is inevitable, but certainly it’s an easy trap that gets a lot of us stuck. Especially when you discover that your younger self bought into some suppositions that have in fact revealed themselves to be complete and utter bullshit later on in life.

The Irish birds have it correct: you shouldn’t spend too much time sizing up the confines of your metro stop or calendar year. Rather, the key lies in just rocking your best look and not worrying too much about where it will lead you at the end of the night. It might be nowhere, but then again it might not- but that’s kind of beside the point. The point is to just be doing.

Doing anything above this is just an unfortunate squandering of life’s productivity.