I hate my birthday. I have for quite awhile now. I guess when you get old enough that people stop making you birthday cakes, planning parties for you and singing “Happy Birthday” it’s bound to happen, and well, my birthday 2012 certainly didn’t change my mind. In fact, it helped add to my theory that my birthday is cursed. Let me explain through what I can remember and what has been told to me about that day…
I decided that the best way to change the course of the birthday curse was to take a “me” day. Got a massage, hair cut, colored and straightened so I would look and feel like a million bucks. Made arrangements with my friend to go on a double date that evening to a movie that I was dying to see and out to a local hotspot afterwards for some drinks and dancing. What could possibly go wrong?
Well for starters after spending a good amount of time getting gussied up, it decides to drizzle. Rain and Florida humidity are Kryptonite to straight hair and now I’m just praying that by the end of the night I don’t look like the lost sixth member of the Jackson 5. Thankfully I duck into the movie with minimal rain contact. Got my popcorn, soda and settle in….. don’t ya know it the movie SUCKS! Two hours wasted but at least there’s the club to look forward to.
My date pays the cover, we go inside…. There’s like seven people there. OK, so it’s not the most happening spot but at least I’ll be able to have a drink. Do you have Crown? No. Do you have Bacardi Dark? No. Ok, then how about just a Bud Light? Nope. Come ON! What kind of bar doesn’t even have Bud Light? We decide to bail. We head to a local spot where they have a band and Bud Light available if I so choose. As I walk in I see this poster advertising Sweet Revenge. It’s pink and I think the name is just too perfect to turn down. I order a couple of shots for my friend and I, and another and then another. 3 shots on my birthday is not a bad way to go, besides, I’m a big girl, I can hold my liquor, I’m certainly not new to the drinking scene.
Well it doesn’t take very long before the room starts spinning. At this point apparently I’ve pissed off my date and he’s left and I decide to go after him. My very sweet DD loads me into the car where apparently I make a phone call professing my undying love for my date and decide to make things right. I somehow get loaded into my date’s truck, get to his house where he gentlemanly opens the door for me to get out only to watch hit the pavement.
That’s enough. The Sweet Revenge lives true to its word and I begin to puke, everywhere, only to be yelled at by my date that I’m getting it all over his driveway and that I need to “move it to the grass.” The last thing I remember is crawling on my hands and knees to a bush as to not soil his precious driveway. (Believe it or not this won’t be the last you hear about this guy.)
The next morning, as I wake up feeling like my head is being beaten in by a two by four I desperately search for my purse and phone. My purse is luckily on the night stand next to me but my phone, that’s another thing. After searching for quite some time and even heading back to my friend’s house I discover that my phone is gone. SHIT! My whole life is in that phone! I decide to take just one last look. Sure enough, I find the phone. Under the bush, covered in puke… Thank GOD for my Otter Box. I peel my protective cover off and head home glad another birthday is over and done with, or so I think.
Except…. a few weeks later I get a pretty envelope in the mail. Red. Apparently somewhere in my adventures for the day I ran a red light and here is the picture and $178 ticket to prove it. I promise you for my 2013 birthday, I’m not even leaving the fucking house….
