It seems three staffers celebrate birthdays within five days of each other at my place of work, so the secretary started passing cards around to get us to sign them for the birthday people. The associate arrived at my door in the afternoon and announced loudly, "Get ready, they're going to sing you happy birthday. The boss is rounding them up right now." Shortly after they all came into my office, gathered around the desk and started singing. It was no Susan Boyle performance, either.
Later the pastor took three of my friends and myself out to dinner to thank them for their hard work around the parish over the past year to an authentic Chinese restaurant. The choice of date was mostly coincidental. Dinner consisted of a lovely Peking duck as well as an assortment of other beef, fish, rice, vegetable and tofu dishes; the food seemed to flow endlessly from the kitchen. They even served birthday lotus buns for the two of us affected at the table.
Unfortunately the pastor paid for our dinner and we got up to leave. We got all the way to the parking lot before we were chased by a waitress yelling at us in Cantonese, to which the pastor pulled out his receipt and we were allowed to go. They thought we were skipping out on the bill.
I asked my friends to stick around after the dinner for drinks once we had sent the pastor home; that went anything but smoothly as the three of them got out at one of their homes and left me, invitationless, to be driven all the way home. We eventually reunited and had a delightful after-party, sans pastor, which involved a margarita made at a bar with no blender, and a shared piece of chocolate banana cake. Lovely. One of my friends joked that we should leave the bill on the table with the money underneath and see if we could be chased by a pretty waitress a second time in one night.
As an aside, I heard back from the perfect Sunday companion. We're on again for Friday.
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