Birthday Fun

So I went out for my birthday last night. Nothing special planned, just dinner at a new burger joint. Really, it's all I wanted. No family, no big gathering of friends and fringe friends. Just me, and my wife. The burger sucked. Shocking because this place was opened around, and the menu was based upon, the Five Napkin Burger from a restaurant called Nice Matin. I've had the original five napkin burger several times, always amazing. So, when last night's burger was dry and somewhat flavorless. My wife's burger, on the other hand, was everything she'd hoped it would be.

During the course of the meal, my wife explained to me how she fought with the theater manager over her attempt to get replacement seats for a show that we had tickets for back when we had the last big snow storm. She said they wouldn't let her use the tickets for a weekend so she decided to try other shows and, she told me, she couldn't find something that she thought I'd like. Then she says "then I found this, I think it might be fun" and she handed me a Ticketmaster envelope. Inside were two tickets to BB King's and the band was The Radiators or, as we called them back when I was in college, the Rads. Fucking awesome. I didn't even know they were playing. They are a fair band, at best but, back in college, they were one of three bands that you went to see whenever they played. They might play 2 or 3 nights in a row and, if they did, you were there. They'd play 3 sets (later it was only 2) and it was an endurance night, starting the partying around 8 and getting home some time after 4 am. Tons of booze and, more often than not, plenty of X to go around.

So I was kind of psyched about this. Then my wife told me how she found out about the show. My sister. Seems she's going to be there, with that piece of shit husband of hers. Oh well, maybe I'll see some of my friends, or some folks I haven't seen in a while. The band will still be fun. Not like I'll be hanging out with them.

So, off we go. We get to the show just as the band is tuning up. Run into a friend of my wife who I went to school with and then we hit the bar. Hanging around by the bar, scanning the crowd for familiar faces, I start seeing my sister and her friends. Ugh. They all come over. Hugs, kisses and well wishes abound. She's with a large group of friends. Some are cool, others, not so much. I deal. I'm nice, I laugh, reminisce. Then I see my college roommate's old girlfriend. This girl manages to get better looking every time I see her. She's one of the few people from school who I can honestly say is just very cool. Great sense of humor. Always a pleasure seeing her. She informs me that none of my friends are there. Bummer.

Then it happens.

I get grabbed in a massive bear hug. I turn around and I'm being accosted by a guy I haven't seen in close to 20 years. He grabs me again and hugs me one more time. Then the normal talk begins. What are you up to? Kids? Mistresses? The usual. He winds up calling one of his friends to tell him he's with Shaggy. I get on the phone and say hi to the friend. This guy was in another fraternity and my friends and I ran into a bunch of them in Mexico one year and spent the better part of our trip hanging out with them. At some point, one of them decided I was not me but, rather, I was the spitting image of Shaggy from the scooby doo cartoons. I was tall, very skinny and I did, at times, have that chin fuzz thing going. Didn't help that I can do a frighteningly accurate ZOINKS! when needed.

So, this friend brings his wife over and introduces me. I introduce them to my wife. Good times ensue. Numbers exchanged, cards swapped. Then he leans over and asks if I saw Jane (not her real name). I tell him I hadn't seen her in 15 years and that last time was in a restaurant, she was on the other end of the room, walking out and I didn't get a chance to say hello.

I didn't even have a minute to look for her. She saw my sister, heard I was there, and came running. She gives me this huge hug, huge kiss, is holding me tight, telling me she can't believe its been this long, she always asks my friends for updates on me and she cannot believe we don't talk anymore. My wife is standing there, looking at us like we're reunited lovers and she's about to lose her man. I pull back from Jane and introduce her to my wife. Jane then tells my wife how we were the best of friends her senior year (she was a year older than me). She asks my wife if she knows Jim (not his real name) and my wife says yes, she does and she had met his brother as well (his brother died in the WTC). So, Jane says, "I was dating Jim my junior and senior year and he graduated a year before me and he asked Floogin to keep an eye on me." What she didn't say was "floogin was the guy I trusted enough to help me count pills when my shipments would arrive."

So, I wound up hanging out with two old friends. Had a fucking blast. Drank way too much. Barely recall the band actually playing, although I do know they played Da Nang and I vaguely recall a hearing a few other songs.

A total surprise. A total blast. My gift is in Jersey, my wife's license expired on her birthday and it's pouring outside so she won't be driving to her sister's to get my gift. No biggie. Last night was all I needed. Although, I could do without the spinning nausea I'm now suffering from.

Oh, and no, I'm not going to go into any detail about what went on when we got home. A gentleman never talks. Of course, I'm no gentleman.