I just finished up another birthday. Number 31. Now I'm thirty-something; not just plain ol' 30 anymore. Yeah...birthdays (and Birthday Eves) are awesome, but for me, they are more opportunities for socially awkward adventures.
My first adventure happened on Birthday Eve (AKA St. Patrick's Day). My friend Desiree has an actual BIRTHDAY on my Birthday Eve, and I decided to get her some donuts--but not just any donuts. Krispy Kremes. You remember...the ONE DONUT TO RULE THEM ALL, the Donut of Power!
So, I woke up extra early that morning and traveled far into Mordor--I mean, the Krispy Kreme shop--hoping to snag a donuty breakfast of my own before going to work, you know, since I was there anyway.
The strangest thing happened when I walked into the store. There was this lady there who was trying to explain to the...donut sellers? Donut chefs? Donut artists? Donut-istas? Hmm...let's keep going with the LOTR's theme and call them Donut Orcs...or Dorcs. That works. People who make and sell donuts are officially called Dorcs.
Okay.
So, the strangest thing happened when I walked into Krispy Kreme. There was this lady who was trying to explain to the Dorcs that she wanted a dozen assorted donuts, but she wanted them all packaged differently. This poor lady, I felt so sorry for her (and even more so for the Dorc that was helping her), because she kept rambling and stuttering. Finally, she managed to tell the Dorcs that she wanted four donuts in one box, six in another box, one in a bag, and one to eat in the store. It took her about five minutes to explain all this because she kept stuttering and generally not making sense.
Then she finally got what she wanted the way she wanted it packaged, and she went to pay for her order. Well, the Dorcs didn't communicate very well with each other, and the lady wasn't paying attention, so she ended up paying for more donuts than she was supposed to, and then the manager had to come void the order. Then the poor lady couldn't carry all the stuff she had ordered and more Dorcs had to come help her.
Then the frazzled lady went to eat the donut she'd ordered in the store, and while she was there, she took out a notebook to write something down. What was she writing? Nobody knows, because the pen she was using didn't have any ink in it.
Did I mention that this poor frazzled lady was me?
It was.
I was writing down a prayer. I do that. I have ADOSD (Attention Deficit Oooh Shiny! Disorder). If I don't write down or type out my prayers, I can't stay focused. So that's what I was doing with the notebook...praying in Krispy Kreme. Only I got about two sentences into my prayer before my pen completely ran out of ink. I could have gone out to my car to get a pen, but that would have required me juggling all my boxes out to the car with me. I could have asked one of the Dorcs for a pen, but they had already done enough for poor confusing me. So I just sat there and wrote without any ink. And I know they noticed, because one of the Dorcs kept coming up behind me with the pretense of sweeping the floor, trying to figure out what in the world I was doing.
Eventually, I ate my donut and left...and I finished my prayer in the car...after I drove to a different parking lot...after I got a new pen...
So the rest of Birthday Eve was pretty fun. I went walking/running while listening to some Rich Mullins, and it was amazing. I felt so good both physically and Spiritually, but when I got done with the exercise, I had to rush. I was going to a production of Phantom of the Opera that was being performed by a local private school. So I showered and got dressed, and then realized I hadn't eaten much of anything since that donut. So I was lightheaded and stuff. I scarfed down some spaghetti squash and put on some mascara and rushed out the door.
My roommate was playing violin in the orchestra for the play (she teaches violin for the school), so she was driving. We were over halfway there when I realized I'd left my ticket at the apartment. Fortunately, the ticket people were very nice and very forgiving of poor frazzled me, and they got me another ticket. I was able to enjoy the show, but not before one more little bit of social awkwardness.
The student who took my ticket at the door was wearing some really cute black shoes. They were particularly cute, because I was wearing the same shoes. So I made a point of telling her, "Oh, I love your shoes!" She smiled and thanked me. I said, "We obviously have the same taste," and I showed her my shoes. She gave me a blank stare and thanked me again. I said, "I said that because we are wearing the same shoes." She gave me an even blanker stare...and I realized that she wasn't going to play the game. Aww. So I went and took my seat. The end.
The birthday went extremely well. There was very little social awkwardness on the actual birthday. I did go out to dinner with the family I nanny for, and I almost passed that up because I was SO tired. Birthdays are exhausting. But they talked me into it and I had a pleasant and almost completely unawkward experience. The waiter thought I was the kids' mom, but that sort of thing happens to me ALL the time. I should write a blog about that...
But then I went out to eat yesterday for some post-birthday merriment with my friends. We went to an upscale pizza place. First off, they couldn't seat us at a table (at first) and we were seated in two back-to-back booths, which meant we had to shout at each other if we wanted to converse.
Then, our waiter was interesting. He was a close-talker. And a skulker. You know the type. He stands way too close to you so that you can smell/feel his breath (smells/feels like fish)...and he just generally creeps you out. Then he looms over you while you're pondering your order. I think they do it on purpose. They stand there creeping you out until you just order the first thing you see--the featured and most expensive item on the side of the menu. We actually nicknamed him "Gollum" because of the skulking.
We got everything ordered and were able to move the party to an actual table, which was nice. But I was wearing a new shirt, and it gaped a lot (which I didn't realize before I put it on), so I ended up having to tug on my shirt constantly to keep from flashing everyone. Gollum may or may not have noticed this, but he did tell me that since it was my birthday celebration, I got a free piece of cake. So my friend turned to me and said, "Pull up your shirt, Ruth. The cake is ALREADY free!"
Yeah.
Then they brought out the cake, and I thought, "Phew! They're not one of these restaurants that does the big birthday production. They just let me eat my cake in peace!" But then another waiter (who was not Gollum, but a nice man named Kevin who has a bad toothache that keeps him up at night--please keep him in your prayers--I'm totally serious here) realized it was for my birthday, and he took the cake away again.
And I sighed and said, "Oh, apparently this cake comes with a side of public humiliation."
And it did. In the form of a candle. And a birthday song.
All in all, I had a MARVELOUS birthday, but I'm glad I have almost a whole year before I get to have another one. Birthdays are great, but they're exhausting.
I now return to my regularly scheduled life, which is already in progress.
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