Well, that was fun.

Among my circle of friends, it is traditional that whenever someone's birthday rolls around, everyone gets together for dinner and a movie. Such was the plan. The decision was made Tuesday. The call went out Friday, due to a lack of time or initiative on someone's part. The restaurant was chosen, the movie left hanging in the air as everything I wanted to see I'd seen already.

Saturday, 4:50, I pull up to the Olive Garden, five minutes late. I don't see anyone I know mixed in among the metric buttload of other upstanding citizens who've inexplicably chosen to mob the place this fine afternoon. I go inside, and not being in a mood to take any crap, I ignore the staff and wander around looking to see if anyone has snagged a table. No dice.

Heading back out, I spot someone. She's married to another of my friends so the party count is up to three. We put our names on the wait list and, with an hour of standing outside in the sun in my polyester Hawaiian shirt looming before me, we muscle our way back out through the throng to see if anyone else will make an appearance.

Twenty minutes later, half an hour after the announced gathering time, we three decide no one else is coming. I feel so loved. We also decide it's not worth waiting for a table to open up, so we split for a Thai place I rather like instead.

For emphasis: Out of this group of a dozen or so people just looking for an excuse to get together to eat things and view sequential photography, people for whom I have attended every such birthday gathering I've been in town for, on as little as 6 hours' notice, people who coerced me into agreeing to hold a get-together today when I'd rather forget I even have a birthday, two of them showed up. Dos. One and another. And they're a couple and should probably only count as one anyway.

Then we went and saw Spider-Man, for my second time, and some dipshit kept shining a laser pointer on the screen. I shouted, "Put that away!" which got more laughs than results. Then I went to complain, but someone else already had, so I don't even get the jollies of knowing he had his toy taken away because of me.

Happy flippin' birthday to me.