Because it is so cold, (-4°F / -20°C) Jojo and I had to shorten our afternoon walk on Newbury Street at Ciao Bella café and warm ourselves up with a spiked coffee. (or a coffee with a glass of cogniac for Jojo. Jojo fits right in at the rehab center.) Feeling slighty warmer, we made our way to the Elephant Room (the myspace boy bar) for Happy Hour.
One bar leading to another, the Red Line on Harvard Square seemed like the right place to quietly have a drink and watch some good college basketball. But then all hell broke loose. First there was 2 guys. Then there was 3. Then the first 2 left and 2 others came along. Then there was a German guy and I had a long conversation in German...??? Then there was Didier. And we all spoke French. Then there was another guy but we can't remember what we spoke with him. Then it was my birthday and there were rounds of shots. Lots of them. Then we were all on the dance floor. And suddenly the lights were on.
At home, we realized that during the wild night, Jojo had gotten her wallet stolen, forgotten her sweater at the bar and lost a glove.
This morning I'm still birthday girl. And I am reassured that 10 years after my 21st, not much has changed.
Maybe just two things: it'll take about 48 hours to nurse that hang over instead of 12; blowing a couple of benjamins in drinks and getting a wallet stolen is no drama anymore.
Life is good.
Note: thank you everybody for your birthday wishes. now you know why I couldn't answer. but know that they made me very happy.
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