Sometimes it just happens. It’s like getting hit by a car. Sometimes, you look left and you look right as you dash madly into the street and you get hit by a semi. Well, today was kind of like that. I ended up spending a lot of money. Thinking back on it, probably not the best fiscal decision, but it was unavoidable. It’s my nature.
I had a birthday party to attend at 7pm. I had fallen asleep around 6:30 as a result of having around 3 hours of sleep. At 7, the party started. Five minutes later, I woke up and rushed out of ISR. Twenty minutes late to the party, and we were already overcrowding one table. We spilled over to a second table, where I sat, where we definitely ate more than the other table.
Beyond us, there was a table of drunk Chinese people who made one of our table members, Jun Ming, toast with them even though he was under age. As far as I know, this was unsolicited. They just kinda ambled over and made him drink. Furthermore, they continued to bug him throughout dinner. They all had the Asian glow about them.
Finally, at one moment, Suran was telling a story and we gathered around to hear her. That’s about the time it happened. I started asking around to see if we should start singing happy birthday. Swetha said, “Yes…I wish we had a cake!” and something just clicked in my head. I went into overdrive. The solution was apparent. The makings for candles and a cake were only a few moments away. I knew I could solve this immediately. The situation demanded cake.
I realize now that wishes, dreams, and the magic of birthdays kicks me into high gear. Furthermore, it was a gift not only to Suran, but to everyone there, which made it more worth it. And with it being sudden and unexpected, not only for everyone there, but for myself, it would seem like it appeared out of nowhere. Just like birthdays should be. Magical.
Suran, I hope it was magical for you. Because damn, did the world try.
I ran to get the cake. There was a line at Coldstone, so I hopped over to Walgreens, quite literally, as my freerunning antics drew a gasp from a startled onlooker. Once in Walgreens, I found the birthday candles and a lighter and hightailed it out of there, ringing up at the cosmetics cashier. At Coldstone, I picked out two cakes. One said happy birthday. The other said, “eat me, I’m fucking delicious.” Ringing them up made me spit an “oh shit,” quite out loud. The cashier asked me if I was sure, but I rang it up anyway. My impulse purchases are hardest to control when they are for other people.
With the lighter and candle in my pocket and juggling two cakes, I made my way back to the restaurant, where it seemed that people were leaving. I opened the cakes, quickly noting with pride that they were largely undamaged, and started jamming candles into them willy nilly. Eat Me I’m Fucking Delicious ended up with 6 candles, while Happy Birthday ended up with three. It is actually quite strange to see only three candles in a cake. The inevitable triangle lends it a false geometric significance.
We proceeded into the main room, where the owner (I’m guessing) helped me carry the two cakes in. She even turned off the lights. As I walked in, everybody started to sing happy birthday. I imagine it was quite magical – walking as slowly as I had been to avoid the candles going out, I reached the table just as the song ended. Much celebrating was had. I was still on Usefulness overdrive, so I started cleaning the table. The question came up of who was responsible for purchasing the cake, so I fessed up and we got down to dessert. That’s when I found out that one of the drunken Chinese guys had: A) given Suran $100 for her birthday to cover the meal, and B) one of them had stolen the lighter I had just bought.
All in all, it was an awesome, unexpected experience, from the sheer number of people, to the drunken Chinese people, to the surprise cakes. Also, I have never felt as little guilt eating someone else’s Chinese food as I did eating the drunk Chinese peoples’ food after they left. They hadn’t even touched the singapore noodles!
Night wound down and we went our separate ways. Good times, though. Fuck, I miss my lighter.