“Breakfast?” asked my local shopkeeper as I rolled up at the cash desk with a packet of Shreddies and a pint of milk. “No actually. It’s dinner.”
Twelve O’Clock at night and what are you supposed to do when you’ve been out since 7pm carousing at a birthday party under the vaults with copious champagne and a good prosecco. The thing that finally hits you on that fifth glass is that your very own celebration is imminent, plus you need to smuggle a cake into the Groucho Club in between.
Despite someone calling me a ‘generic’ example of my age at said party, I felt rather not that. I didn’t have any peers in fact who would rock up to the birthday celebration of someone they’d only met twice – and the second time being entirely by accident – on a Friday night.
On my third cigarette (only with champagne; only for my birthday celebrations) I ran into a couple of fellow Bloggers. “We’re from ‘Le Guide Noir” one of the Spanish duo told me. Wearing identical outfits – pink furry coats, matching tights and Spanish accents, they informed me they were dressed as the Barbie sisters. I took a photo as Toby and I descended the staircase in time for cake.
I noticed Anna had left the number off and there were only four candles. Good girl, I thought. Let’s leave it to the imagination.
Soul music predominated. “What is this?” I asked the barman.
“Fat Freddy’s Drop.” He told me. “They’re a New Zealand band – kind of a retro sound, actually they’re pretty old, ex crayfish fisherman.” He shook his cocktail shaker and poured what looked like steam into two glasses. “It’s hickory smoke” he told me and showed me the implement he used to produce it.
I was offered birthday cake. “But I wanted you to have some of mine!” I said to the belle of the ball. “I’ve got half a one here from today at work, fresh cream, chocolate, banana, strawberries… I can’t have any right now anyway because of my teeth.”
“Oh, you have Invisalign” a dentist nearby interrupted.
“No, they’re retainers actually. You’ve had yours whitened haven’t you?”
“Yes” she said.
As I do on my birthday weekend, I feel a bit like I’m on holiday. Like it’s Monopoly money and all bets are off. However, talk of teeth made me think about mine, eating and how I was unbelievably hungry. “I’ve got to go” I said, “I have to be at The Groucho in the morning at 10.”