I should be an actress
Sometimes it just doesn’t take a lot to make me smile, to laugh, to feel a sense of overwhelming glee.
Like last night, when for whatever reason, L & B and I went to the Olive Garden, of ALL places for dinner and at the end of the evening, B says to out waitress—”oh, and it’s this one’s birthday,” as he points to me (NOTE: my birthday is in JULY). Umm….I played along and put my head down in mock-embarrassment. Actually, the embarrassment was pretty real, at the thought of shilling Olive Garden out of a slice of cake, but when the waitress told me that I could pick whatever cake I wanted, I relented. Then L told her that I wanted at least 10 people to come sing Happy Birthday and she left with a sparkley “I can do that!”
And she did—five minutes later she came back with a piece of some insanely rich chocolate concoction and nine of her closest wait staff friends. Later L said it was so cute because I had turned such a charming shade of pink as they sang a strange rendition of Happy Birthday—all for me.
And so when they left, the three of us pillaged our slice of free $7 cake. I tried to get the “it’s my birthday” advantage when it came time to settle the check, but L & B didn’t cave—those ruthless bastards.