You know something that I just can't stand? Besides people in general, that is? It's people who make a big to do about their birthday, or about birthdays in general. What is the big deal? That you lived another year?
I used to work in corporate America, in large offices, and virtually every day someone was having a birthday. So, virtually every day someone thought they should be given special treatment. When 55 year old women go around calling each other the "birthday girl" it makes me wanna gag. Wait, don't tell me how old you are. Let me count the wrinkles.
And whoever came up with this oh, so hilarious over-the-hill black balloon craze ought to be shot. It's not just the black balloons. It's the black streamers, and the black confetti, and the black cards. I'd like to give 'em a black eye.
What I really hate are those happy birthday spontaneous combustion outbursts you hear in restaurants. I know there are no-smoking sections, I wish they'd have no birthday celebration sections in restaurants.
Every dog-gone time I go out to eat I encounter at least one of the unruly displays of celebratory excitement. It starts by a gang of waiters (who should be pouring me some more ice water) marching through the restaurant clapping their hands.
As soon as I hear the clapping begin, I want to dive through the plate glass window. I know what's in store.
This roving gang of limited-talent birthday thugs converge on the "birthday girl's" table and begin this "Happy Birthday" chant. They can't sing Happy Birthday to You because that song is copyrighted and they'd have to pay a fee everytime they sing it.
So they do the next worse thing. They have this hideous, tuneless cacophony of random notes that goes something like, "Happy happy" clap-clap "Happy happy" clap-clap "Happy hapy birthday." And then after the hubbub dies down, everyone in the restaurant is supposed to stop what they're doing (such as gagging) and applaud. I'm not sure if we're supposed to applaud the performance or the fact that someone in the place is having a birthday.
Go ahead. Ask me if I appl....NOPE.
Here's a little advice to the birthday celebrant, and I mean this is the nicest way possible. Shut up. No one cares. We all have birthdays. They mean nothing. I've had one each year since I was born. And, it's really nothing to get so excited about.
One more thing, what's with the birthday cake? I've seen grown women giggling hysterically at the thought of putting one candle for each year on the cake of a co-worker.
The only person who should get a little excited over that would be the fire marshall. But nothing seems to delight forty plus (age, not size, although...) women like birthday candles. They light the candles, the birthday girl blows her saliva all over the cake, everyone applauds, and then they all eat the saliva-drenched cake. Wow, what a great idea.
The whole thing is ridiculous. So, my final word. When June 29th comes around this year, I don't want you to do anything for me. Remember that. On June 29th, I don't want anyone to say anything. Not on June 29th. And, now I have to stop writing and go look at neckties. I sure do like neckties.
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3 comments:
I would eat "saliva-drenched cake" to sit in the No Birthday Celebration Section of a restaurant!
I hate to break this to you,Ten, but you probably already have...or worse. But you didn't hear that from me.
Even if there was such a section, look how successful the no-smoking section is at keeping us nonsmokers cancer free-- not very much.
And do parents have to bring thier screaming newborns? Where is the no-baby section? I have a hard time eating with both hands covering my ears. Nor can I cover both ears, if I'm covering my mouth, while hacking a lung from the smoke.
Will someone just let me eat?
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