My Joint Birthday Bash
I had another joint birthday this year with my girlfriend B. Due to the fact that I was swamped with work prior, we only had maybe 2 weeks to prep for the big bash. For me, I only had 1 week to invite people, surprisingly a lot of people came to the club, but at that point I was too drunk to see half of them…or so I heard days after. So the plan was Ethiopian cuisine followed by the clubs. B had decided on a venue that was having a special event, coincidentally I knew the association that was hosting this event and the people that were showing up were people that I knew…yay more people to see, less people to invite!
I was looking forward to the huge bash, but of course 2 days before the party I was admitted to the hospital, but I wasn’t going to be the party pooper and I toughed it out! And hey, I have an excuse to look like shit now. 
The restaurant was a…surprise to all of us. B had found this restaurant on the internet and it and some pretty good reviews, so we thought “What the hell! No harm in trying it out!” The food was good, the place, was not and the cleanliness was at par with a New York dumpster. It came in a huge plate and none of us knew what we were eating! It was good, sort of like Mexican. Funny thing? We walk in and instead of authentic Ethiopian people and flavors, the customers and servers were mainly screaming in Spanish, the place smelled like a Mexican joint and the speakers were blaring hardcore rap. Hmm funny…I didn’t know authentic Ethiopian music meant Slim Shady.
The dinner was suppose to be an intimate thing between B and my friends, the club was strictly for all our other friends. Okay so problem? Our girlfriends couldn’t make it to dinner, so the boyfriends decided to represent, you can say the dinner had a very strong testosterone presence.
Oh right, B and I had met through mutual friends, we had all gone to post secondary together, I was in the School of Business and she was in some Architectural Program. Long story short, we remained friends and since our birthdays were 2 weeks apart, we though we’d celebrate our birthdays together. Of course I’m not a huge fan of planning elaborate birthdays, knowing how stressful it gets, I spent the last 3 years on my birthday, driving drunken people home!
Back to dinner, the restaurant was a block and a half away from the club, it’s not in a good part of town either, but we had enough guys to walk us there! The boys and I did shots in the restaurant, it was pretty funny, the owner came out with his personal stash and served us shots in plastic shot cups because he didn’t have extra shot glasses…talk about shaaady.
The club was…a blur? I don’t know how many drinks people bought me but I was falling on everyone telling them they looked good and how drunk I was, that was what I did 50% of the time, the other 50% I spent in the bathroom taking pictures with the girls. I saw way more people but I didn’t get pictures with them, the pictures I could salvage were the ones my other girlfriends took.
The night ended up with me outside of St. Joseph’s hospital, apparently a fight broke out between 2 guys and one of them had fallen on me, they had bruised my already sprained-but-healing foot. The bouncers and my guy friends carried me out, I vaguely remember a burly, bald, Spanish guy pulling my dress down while he was carrying me out, I chuckled quite a bit inside even though I was in pain. I woke up and found out that I had lost my bank card, $60, a lot of my makeup, my favourite bangle and hair piece. All in all, I made a perfectly good ass out of myself on my birthday (good job) I made a scene, I tested the waters of my friendship, and I found a lot of truths and untruths that night. But hell! I had a blast!
Did I mention this is the first time I actually forgot a drunken night?