The experience of living inside my cramped apartment walls during The Plague Times is itself old enough that it has become easy to miss the other ways in which it has both spun the clock forward while blurring the general concept of time itself. In the enforced absence of the supposedly fun things I generally do less and less often in my Late 20s Guy Years—the coked-up all-nighters, industry events, or slightly overdone happy hours—my life is increasingly taking on more elderly aspects. I spend a lot of time with my girlfriend and strolling through various parks with my beagle. We take walks to farmers markets and creep on what appears to be first dates and I’ve considered taking up gardening and we talk about work or whatever is bothering us, and then we come home and make dinner. We have done this, and more or less mostly this, for a year now.
For whatever residual shame might be attached to it, I can’t say I was surprised at how much I’ve been enjoying Summer Fridays, which is almost a civic holiday of its own. When there is only so much to look forward to, even the simpler carbohydrates found in a pint glass start to seem like elaborate privileges. Depending on the amount of backlogged work I have to scramble to finish before closing out the week, or how I’m feeling about going full fuck it mode on my accounts team by signing off early, both scenarios involve expediting the intake of several brews. I both understand and embrace the mania of Summer Friday, and I am currently taking it a step further by observing the generational gap in how people enjoy these sacred afternoons.
MILLENNIALS
*cracks open a High Noon while sitting on their balcony*
“Work from anywhere, right? This has been great for the culture. Cheers to Geoff!”
*takes a sip while blasting Animal Collective*
“Damn, I had no idea High Noon made tequila sodas…”
GEN Z
*their at-home office desk seat is empty because they never signed on.*
GEN X
*sitting outside on their backyard patio diligently working on a pitch deck*
“Better message the team to see where everyone’s at for the creative concepts…”
*Slacks the junior creatives for a status update at 12:15 PM before returning to work*
“There’s something so peaceful and mediative about working on a Friday afternoon… Summer Fridays have been great for morale but I gotta get this done before signing off. We can’t let those Monday morning client meetings sneak up on you.”
*three hours pass and not one response*
“Let me Slack Sam to see where we’re at with the copy. At least he’s responsive…”
*Slacks Sam at roughly 3:08 PM and does not receive a response*
“I hate this job but I’m too young and poor to retire. Why did I have kids?”
BOOMERS
*handwriting their grocery list for the weekend (likely will make their wife grab it)*
“Hmm… Need some more milk and alcohol. Let me Slack Sam to see if he has any good cocktail recommendations.”
MILLENNIAL
*receives Slack from Geoff and his creative director after the fourth High Noon in half an hour*
“Nope… Time to sign off.”