Gen X Party Culture: The Gross, Glorious Years We Somehow Survived

I’m at the stage of life where one late night ruins the rest of my week, so naturally my brain decided to revisit my early twenties — a time when I could pull an all-nighter, work a full day, and still go out again that same night.

Honestly… who was she?

This might be a gross read for anyone under 35 — and honestly, maybe even for some of my fellow Gen Xers if my friend group was uniquely chaotic.

I grew up in a college town and moved back after my college graduation, which technically made me a “townie.” But despite the label, I still blended right in with the college crowd once I moved back home. I worked an entry-level job that somehow allowed me to stay out until 3:00 a.m. on Wednesday and Thursday nights and still show up at work looking — if not fresh — at least functional.

But lately, I’ve noticed a few… differences between then and now.

Looking Back at Our Feral Twenties

1. Staying out until sunrise was basically a personality trait.

My friends and I would close down the bars, hit an after-party, and then go home for an hour of sleep before showering and heading to our 8 a.m. jobs. Not occasionally — regularly.

Now? It sounds like most twentysomethings actually go home, rest, hydrate, and show up responsibly the next day. Is this true? Do they really value sleep? What is this maturity?

2. We didn’t have the luxury of staying home and still feeling connected.

Maybe we went out more because that’s how friendship happened back then. If you didn’t show up in person, you didn’t see anyone. There were no group chats, late-night FaceTime calls, or “just checking in” voice notes sent from bed.

Connection meant putting on real pants, braving the elements, and yelling over bar music.

Showing up mattered — even when it meant crawling into work the next morning with three hours of sleep and a questionable sense of dignity.

3. Our drinking games were absolutely disgusting.

This is where the Gen X savagery really shines.

When we played beer pong, we drank from the same cups the ping pong balls landed in. The same balls that bounced across bar floors, garages, parking lots — basically bacteria obstacle courses.

Today, people use water cups for gameplay and drink from separate cups like civilized human beings.

And honestly… good for them.

4. The overall vibe was… wonderfully gross.

Weekends meant friends (and friends of friends) sleeping on my tiny apartment floor for football games. Shared shower schedules. Cabs — because Uber wasn’t a thing yet. Cigarette smoke in our hair because bars didn’t have no-smoking policies. Bad lighting. Questionable decisions.

And still — so much fun.

Fun that wasn’t documented. No phones. No uploads. No tagged photos. If someone had a camera, great. If not, the night simply lives in our memories forever.

And here’s the truth:

Maybe those nights feel bigger now because they had to be lived in person. We didn’t have online spaces to maintain friendships while also getting a full night of sleep. If you wanted connection, you physically showed up — even if it meant rolling into work the next morning with glitter in your hair.

Now my friendships exist in text threads, Facebook updates, and “we really need to get together soon” messages sent at 9:12 p.m. from bed. It’s a different kind of connection in this season of parenting and adulting — easier, more convenient, but also a little less magical.

Still, I’m grateful we had our feral years. I’m equally grateful we don’t have to relive them with today’s responsibilities and social media.

---

Want more stories like this?

If this unlocked a few chaotic 20-something memories of your own, I’d love to have you on my email list. I write about mom-life honesty, and Gen X nostalgia about aging, parenting, and real life — all the real talk we don’t post on social media.