Birthday Sex

            You now have that terrible song stuck in your head.  And you are welcome.

            Sando and I went out the other night, it was a Sunday, so it was kind of dead at OPH, which we like, so no big deal really.  Mase was in there with some of his friends and he was hammer faced.  I don’t think he recognized us when we walked in, that’s how intoxicated he was or seemed.  Either way it was quite an interesting night.

            Sunday happened to be my birthday eve, so we were kind of celebrating.  Anyways, his friends come up to us, as we know them and can hold a conversation with them.  I am almost positive that one of them wanted my number, but I kind of shrugged that one off.  I don’t know whats proper etiquette when it comes to banging one dude and getting one of his friends’ numbers?  I mean, I am not dating Mase, but I don’t think its cool to bang friends simultaneously.  So I don’t get the number. 

            Now, Mase is so hammered that he kind of stumbles over to us and realizes that it is in fact US!  Next thing we know all his other friends come over and start chatting with us, so it was me and Sando in a circle with 4 men.  Two of which were very large.  All of which were very intoxicated. 

            Mase and I are talking about random shit when his large intoxicated friend stumbles over to us and introduces himself to me and Sando.  Then he looks at Mase and he looks at me, then he looks back at Mase and says, “you two are fucking.”

            It wasn’t even a question!  It was a direct statement!  Kind of like, “I’m drinking tea,” or “it’s a lovely day.”  “You two are fucking.”  Spectacular. 

            “No were not,” Mase said straight faced.

            “Yea you are, I can see it in your eyes.  You two are looking at one another, you know, ‘like that’.”

            “No dude.  Were just friends,” Mase said.

            “Dude, don’t tell me!  I know your fucking!”

            “Why would we ruin a friendship by fucking?”

            Seriously?  I wasn’t aware that we were these wonderful friends beforehand.  But apparently, our fucking doesn’t change a damn thing does it?  HAHA.  I just don’t know.

            “Whatever dudes,” said the large man and walked away.

            “Well that was interesting,” I say when the large man leaves.  I think I can honestly say that I was shocked for a second when he said that.  I am not one to be quiet, but I was thrown off guard by that one.  How does one respond really?  Should I have said, “you’re quite right sir, carry on, please.  Continue to humiliate me inadvertently because I like it.”           

            By that time it was midnight and officially my day of birth.  I am officially an old woman with infertile eggs and bags under my eyes.  I’m also growing jowls like a fucking dog because I am old and I like cranking butts at night.  (And every other part of the day… erroneous). 

            Sando and I get two shots from the bartender.  We got chocolate covered pretzel shots, which are amazing if you are into chocolate and pretzels.  Which I am.  Happy birthday to me!  Sling those back and Mase says, “oh shit!  It’s your birthday!”

            Silly drunk man.

            “Yea it is Boo.”

            “You know I hate when people call one another Boo.”

            “I know angel, that’s why I do it to you.”

            It’s so easy.

            So we hang out for a little while longer and then we get back to his house.  I honestly can say that every time I go over there I don’t plan on staying but I do because I like walking out of a random house in the morning when the birds are chirping and the people in the village below are going about their business.  I probably know a hand full of people working right there, and they know my car, ergo, they know I am a dirty stay out.  It’s especially awesome when your hair looks like a wild fucking animal had their way with you and left you for dead.  Not to mention the smoky eye look that has turned into the dead hooker look.  But that’s neither here nor there really.  I mean, there is nothing I can do about it at this point is there?

            Anyways, we get back to his house and it usually goes like this: hit the bathroom, go to the bedroom, chat for a few minutes about the night, laugh because I am hysterical, and then jump on one another.  Basically.  I don’t know who starts is half the time but I enjoy it.  Then we laugh again at something stupid like the remote being uncomfortably close to my ass or something.  Then we bang it out… more than once… most of the time. 

            So were lying in bed and he’s flipping through the channels and the Golden Girls were on.  Let me just explain to you all my love for the Golden Girls.  I can’t fucking explain it!  Let’s put it this way; I want to be one when I get old.  I want to sit around a 3 foot round table in a 1980’s designed kitchen with a pot of coffee and a chocolate cherry cheesecake in front of me and 3 of my friends and talk about sex and our daughters being artificially inseminated.  I mean, who WOULDN’T want that as a later life?  Anyways, I say, “Oh my God, the Girls!”

            “You can’t be serious…”

            “I have never been more serious about anything in my life.  Turn on the Girls or I will fight you.”

            “Seriously?”

            “This is not my kidding face.  And anyways, it’s my birthday.  Turn on the Girls!”

            He turns on the Girls and I am content. Then he pushes my stray hairs out of my face and kisses my cheek and whispers, “happy birthday.” 

            Thrown.  I was thrown. 

            “Thanks.  Now be quiet, you’re interrupting the Girls.”

            I don’t know how to react to being kissed on the cheek and told happy birthday in a cute way!  How am I supposed to react to it?  I don’t know!  So I do what every normal girl would do and I ignore it and tell him to be quiet.  HAHA.  Cause that’s the nice and appreciative thing to do right?

He laughed and threw his arm around me and we watched the Golden Girls until passing out.  Not to mention, he was laughing at their witty banter and snarky rhetoric.  He can’t lie to me!  Needless to say, it was a very interesting birthday.