Chapter 6 — The Birthday Dinner

Yesterday we drove up to LA for a friend’s birthday dinner. This was the first time my female ex-roommates were going to meet the girl, so I was already prepared for their judgmental tone. So the night begins with the girl and I bickering about which pants I should wear. “Wear the dark jeans, I like that one,” she says. “Well this place isn’t really a jeans type of place,” I reply. “Just go ask your thousand of girl friends which one is better,” she quips. Leave it up to me to be the only guy amongst four girls and my soon to be girlfriend. Let me just mention that at this moment I had zero plans to have this girl be my girlfriend. “Alright I’ll be right back,” I kindly respond just to get out of there. As I drag feet to the girls’ room with a pair of jeans and some nice pin-stripped pants I’m laughing to myself because I know exactly what the girls are going to say. I knock on the door and go in with both pants behind my back. They jabber on about the girl for a minute and then I ask, “Which of these should I wear?” One of the girls immediately barks, “Uh this isn’t exactly a jeans type of place.” The biggest grin grows on my face. I should have just done a loop around the building because I just delayed the girls and myself by bringing up this shit. Anyways, we go to the restaurant all nicely dress and what is the first thing girls always want to do? Take pictures. Now I have to try and entertain the birthday girl and my friends knowing that they will give me shit if I don’t. “You came all the way up here and didn’t even blah blah blah”, I can hear it all now. On the other hand I have to entertain the girl in a language that no one else understand. As luck would have it, right when the girls want to take picture together, my chick wants to walk all the way down the stairs. “Babe, they really want to take pictures now and the sun is going away,” I softly try to explain. She then puts on the nicest fake smile and says, “Then go take pictures with your friends.” “They want you to be in it too so let’s go take some pictures with them,” I respond while reaching for her arm. She refuses to come along, so I just bite the bullet and go take pictures with the girls. Eventually she walks into the area and between pictures someone points out that she should get in. She continues with that lovely fake smile and jumps in the picture. Wheew, well at least she seems like she is playing nice. We do our own little photo shoot as the sun sets and go in to have dinner. Gotham is safe for another night.

