>Bubbe's party was at a rocking Russian restaurant and banquet hall called Zhivago's. We assembled for brunch at 11:30 AM. Within 30 minutes, I saw more gold lame, see-through skirts with no linings, leopard print tops, and skin tight skirts, and stiletto heels than I have in the past several months. We also observed one middle-aged man wearing a mesh shirt, a guy in a tux, and enormous quantities of chest hair poking out of unbottoned shirts. These people know how to close down a weekend, I'll give them that. Needless to say, I joined them all on the dance floor with the various elder female contingent of my family.

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