After a hot, sweaty night of dancing and slamming to punk rock legends the Queers on the bottom level of Fitzgerald's, a group of tough-looking teenage girls waited in line for the bathroom. As they leaned against the wall, wiping their Manic Panic hair out of their eyes, they couldn't help but check out the three women in their late twenties who were waiting for the bathroom as well. Shouldn't these older chicks be at an after-work happy hour, knocking back martinis and discussing their retirement plans? Or racing home to get dinner ready for the kids? The curiosity got to be too much for one troubled youth, who finally got up the courage to ask the age of one older woman as she walked out of a stall and headed for the sink. "I'm 28," the woman announced, wiping her hands on a paper towel. "And I will always
go to shows." As she sauntered out, the sense of awe lingering in the bathroom was palpable.