Belated Birthday Present

So being sick paid off. Someone somewhere is smiling down on me. Saturday night was almost worth dying for.

I had no plans to venture out any further than the local Barnes & Noble or Blockbuster for the weekend. Saturday I was still feeling a little under the weather. I was certain hot tea and a movie were the way to spend my evening. Safe, smart, and no chance of a relapse. Other people had other ideas.

Let me back track a little. A few weeks ago I was flipping through the channels, I stopped on a music video starring an old lady country star and a scruffy young man from Detroit. I like the young man from Detroit and his sister/ex-wife/cousin/mother's music. I'm not a rabid fan but I do own a few selections. Watching the video, I fell in love with the scruffy young man from Detroit. Or lust. Call it what you want. I commented to whoever would listen that I'm sure he would be a dirty fuck and I'd love to try him out.

Fast forward to Saturday. "Jason" calls to tell me we are going to THE hot new sushi/edge fusion restaurant and then to hear one of my favorite local bands. I am having none of it. "Amy" calls. She tells me how much I am going to love the restaurant. It will do me a great deal of good to get out of the house. NO WAY! Hot bath and a movie for me. The calls go on for about 45 minutes. Finally, "Jason" tells me I have to go because there is a surprise waiting for me. A surprise? OOOO, well why the fuck didn't you say so?

I pretty myself up and off we go. Now let me tell you, as much of a bitch as I am, I have some great friends. We walk into the new sushi/edge fusion restaurant. It is so me. All calm blue, comfortable seating, groovy music (in house DJ), and great food. As I am ordering a Purple Haze I glance up and hallucinate the scruffy young man from Detroit walking through the door. I decide my fever must be back. I try to ignore it but the man who looks like the scruffy young man from Detroit is walking to our table. IT IS THE SCRUFFY YOUNG MAN FROM DETROIT! He sits down while wishing me a happy belated birthday. Well fuck me up the butt and shoot me sideways. The scruffy young man from Detroit, the man I was lusting after, the "dirty" fuck, just wished me happy birthday. "Jason" is the best friend a bitch could have.

The scruffy young man is in town mixing an album. "Jason" didn't tell me because I was so sick. He was afraid he would be unable to arrange a meeting. He was also afraid knowing the scruffy young man from Detroit was in town might give me a coronary. Dinner was filled with fab food, yummy alcohol, and delicious conversation. I also wasn't too stalkerish creepy. I held myself together pretty well. Even after the alcohol hit me.

After dinner we went to another bar for some karaoke. I usually hate karaoke but it wasn't so bad. It's easier to enjoy karaoke when you have a "professional" with you. I attempted to sing a Joss Stone song. Can you figure out which one? Cheesy I know, but it seemed appropriate. Plus it made everyone laugh. He sang an old country song. My friends tried to sing "La La" to make my night even more special. Even though it was MY birthday celebration I bought the first round of drinks. I insisted. I was so happy I wanted to share the wealth so to speak. Plus I wanted the scruffy young man from Detroit to feel welcomed. When I grew bored of karaoke, we went to a hole in the wall bar to hear one of the bands on my sidebar. I drank too much, sang too much, danced on the bar, and laughed so much my sides still hurt.

I may be still be drunk. OK I am still drunk and happy and I can't sleep. Some days I love my life. I always love my friends. And I there is definitely something to be said for scruffy young men from Detroit.