| SATURDAY, 26 FEBRUARY, 2000, PHILADELPHIA | |
|
Thursday was the birthday of one of my nearest and dearest, Michele, whom I have known for years from San Francisco, New Orleans, and now Philly. The damnable wench has taken it upon herself to escape my clutches of 5 years and threatens to move to Phœnix sometime next year. Damnable she-cur! I disapprove mightily! I hope you are reading this, Miss Thing! So for her birthday present, myself and Patrick, another nearest and dearest whom I’ve known for way too many years decided upon a special little treat. Thursday, Micha-Kitten was taken out to dinner by some friends then brought like the sacrèd cow to Bob & Barbara’s, a local pub on South St. that hosts a lovely drag show on Thursdays. The partygoers consisted of about 15 sparkly friends and acquaintances showing up eventually. When the time came, I handed Mittens our present. A simple plain white envelope stating simply, “Happy Fuckin’ BDay” or something like that. In it was one piece of paper with a bunch of officious print on it. Highlighted was the pertinent information: Date, departure time, flight number and carrier. PHL —> PHX for a long weekend to see one of her closest friends and scope out her new stomping grounds. I of course hope she’ll wake up and realise how stupid it would be to move from an actual city to an arid flat desert that is completely in the wrong time zone. All gifts are self-serving in one aspect or another, after all. Patrick had called her bosses at work a month prior and cleared Friday and Monday out for her, and swore them to secrecy upon pain of Meg Tilly movies. To her credit, her boss did keep a tight lip about our devious little plans. In fact, a few weeks ago, Micha-Pooh-Pooh asked for the Friday off. She plans her hangovers well in advance, clever girl. Her boss flat out said, “No! I’ll be on vacation and we can’t spare you. Plan on being here the day after your birthday.” Whatta bitch. I love ‘er. Anne organised Part II of the gift. She bought one of those gawdawful “Baby’s First Birthday” books and filled in all the questions: What I wore: Probably something black. What games we played: 1) Who can drink the most, and fastest? 2) Who can remember the night? 3) Who can fall on the floor from the highest distance? Etc. The book went on, and in the part where you’re supposed to paste in baby’s first precious birthday cards, she had pasted in $20’s and $50’s from all of her friends as “thrifting cash” whilst in Phœnix. Now, she’s in Phœnix having a gay old time no doubt, considering the company she’s keeping. The only thing we didn’t tell her is her other long-lost friend from San Francisco is flying down to Arizona to meet her while she’s there. I think that part of the surprise happens sometime tonight. I’m such a good friend to have. So are Michele, Patrick, Anne and a wee fistful more scattered about the globe.
| |
   |
