Outside of a game of Dungeons and Dragons it was definitely an odd choice. But there were definitely people today making a living doing things that Bards had once done. Subway and street buskers, musicians of all sorts and traveling theatre troops had sort of taken over where the Bards had left off as well, though they certainly made more money and had better accommodations (depending on what your definition of "good accommodations" happened to be). Sid tabled his hands under his chin and batted his eyes. "I do?" He asked with feigned innocence. "You can see it?" He certainly, generally felt radiant, at least. It was nice to be seen.
Sid shrugged. "Well obviously if someone asked you point blank there's nothing you can do, but there are plenty of immortal types around who might not consider age such an imposition." At least, anyone who had at least a couple hundred years under their belt was unlikely to feel that way. When you were going to live forever what was a thousand years between immortals?
Oooh, greasers. He remembered greasers. "Nah," he said shaking his head a little as he chuckled at the very idea. "My hair doesn't behave like that." Even with a lot of grease. "I do cut a nice figure in a leather jacket though," he added. If he did say so himself. "Ah the theatre!" This was said in a dramatic, faux-British accent. "We're not that far from New York you know. The theatre there is supposed to be the best. Musicals on Broadway. We should go!" He was always game for anything musical, it wasn't a hard sell.
"Ah well," he began and shrugged again. "I was traveling. I got distracted for a couple decades. These things happen."