This is the properly published headline. Me, E and K went out to dinner as sort of a pre-departure dinner. We went to one of the crazy Indian restaurants on 1st east of Astor Place. It is one of those restaurants where they put up every decoration...strings of red christmas lights, blow up balls and dolls are hanging from the ceiling. Anyway, E and I decided it would be halarious and only fair if we declared it was K's birthday...and so it was. After we finished with dinner the lights dimmed and a disco ball started with some crazy version of 'happy birthday' over the sound system. Halarious.
Happy Indian Birthday J!
Ah, the first published attempt at the Indian Birthday...without use of the nickname.
No pants is funny.
A. It just is. No way around that.
B. It's a semi-known event which occurs on the 6 train.
C. While getting ready to go out on Thursday night, I looked out the window and saw my newest interest: the overweight woman who has not yet worn pants while cooking. Let me explain this a little more since I sound like a freak at the moment. This woman cooking with no pants is like my own mini auto accident- the phenomenon where you want to look away, but can't seem to pull your gaze away from the window. I can't stop wondering why she feels the need to cook without pants. It seems like an almost-danger situation. The weather was fall-ish, so it was definitely not too hot or cold, even considering the heat from cooking. It's mind boggling. Anyway, she made her way into my conversations for the rest of the weekend...
Happy American Mexican German Birthday C!
Birthday's happen. Birthday's are celebrated in Mexican restaurants. Birthday's occur for German's visiting NY. Birthday's happen for a guy on a day when it wasn't his birthday. Put this all together and you get an unsuspecting German guy in a Mexican restaurant wearing a sombrero and told it's his birthday. We considered it a great time to teach him about cultural exchange.
Wienerschnitzel. Echt.
J is Austrian. So J & C volunteered to cook dinner for us. Wienerschnitzel. So good. I wanted to steal their passports. I don't do much cooking. I would really like to do more of it and learn how to throw something fantastic together. Ah, aspirations. Anyway, I have to say that even cold Wienerschnitzel consumed after an evening of drinking is really good. It quelled my hangover; unfortunately it didn't have the same effect on the boys. As inferred, we had dinner and then went out to Tonic in Times Square for a sort of work-related event. Ok, it was an open bar sponsored by another digital company and my coworkers and I all attended. Hence 'sort of work-related.' A guy from a random agency decided to share the only German he knew with us "Ich habe eine Grosse Schlange." Right. He then looked at J & C and told them not to tell ME what he just said. So, I told the bastard I knew exactly what he said. This is why learning foreign languages is so important and interesting: strangers say the darndest things!
