Guide to Chasing Youthful Tail

A perfect name for this East Atlanta haunt, The Graveyard is popular with pretty young things whose fathers would bury you alive for hitting on their princesses. Graveyard's spacious bar, complete with vintage leather couches, impromptu photo booths and conveniently cramped dance floor is a perfect backdrop to get weird with Atlanta's youth. Their ?industry? Mondays are an absolute spectacle, but be careful: Those party snapshots go on the Internet for all the public to see.

This one swings in your favor, fellas. There's always a fresh swarm of SEC Southern belle 'sorostitutes? that gather at this dump to husband hunt seemingly successful older men. The nightly gaggle just graduated from spending daddy's money and they're sniffing around to help you allocate yours. Diamonds and pearls will glitter in their eyes, even if they get a glimpse of your AARP card as you pull out that AmEx to pay for their liquid age-equalizers.

It's a school night? Time to put the women and children to bed and go hunting for 21-year-olds. Barbaric, I know, but it's a mad man's world, and Opera can be an absolute jungle. Brave the domineering crowd and hit this Midtown mega club for their usual supply of debauchery-driven, young partiers. And for prosperity's sake, don't forget to give a creepy smile and flash your Class of ?92 Devry identification card.

If being the old dude at the club isn't weird enough, just hop in that preowned Lexus and head OTP for added trouble. Although this Gwinnett County establishment will have no affinity to early '60s Madison Avenue, it will most certainly have that good ol? boy mentality of 1960s South that we've been trying to live down for decades. And don't worry about Lolita's dad and his hunting truck ? he's most likely on the premises doing the same thing that you're doing.

Young Yankees cross the Mason-Dixon to attend the Harvard of the South, and old dudes like me are as pleased as punch for it. This longtime VaHi hooch establishment's Tuesday night has long been associated with Emory's youngsters, and it has become tradition for these brainiacs to get buck wild on a school night. So buy $4 pitchers of PBR for all those girls with fake New York IDs. Just don't forget to tell them you went to NYU and Emory was your safety school.