Today I became 36.
Today I had the day off work, and we actually went out! We went out for lunch, do you remember that? I barely do. Being able to go out for lunch.
Well we had to drive all the way to Harrogate to do it because we fancied going to Wagamamas and that was the nearest one that was open, but it was almost, almost, like the before-times.
That, and all the waitresses were dressed as surgeons, and there were screens on the tables, but it was almost like the before-times.
Oh, and you had to pay by using your phone via a website because despite bringing us drinks and food for an hour or so, holding the card machine for us to beep would be just too risky, but it was kind of like the before-times.
Aaaand they only had a limited menu, because… reasons, but it was a bit like the before-times.
OK so it was nothing like the before times, but we had a child free lunch out in a nice restaurant with nice food and the weather was nice.
Today I had a nice day.
12 comments on “Birthdingtons lunch”
I heard a rumour that you bought a power washer for your birthday and spent most of the day “haste cleaning” your drive and patio. Is this true?
Ah, 36. You modern 36 year olds don’t know you’re born. When I turned 36 we weren’t allowed to leave the house, and all our presents smelled of Dettol, and “eating out” meant eating in a different room to the one we normally ate in.
I had my birthday dinner in the bathroom and I considered myself lucky.
Aye, soon them 36-ers will want to be out in an actual pub and ‘go for drinks’. Selfish bastards.
Idiots. I can’t wait until I’m 37 and no longer mistaken for one of their reckless, devil-may-care sort.
When I’m 37 I’m going to eat 37 oreos all at the same time.
Okay, maybe one by one. I’m not sure my viso/volto would be able to take that level of biscuitude.
That sounds like a whole new level of toxic masculinity. First the sugar, now this.
The mark of an Alpha Male is his ability to eat a lot of something, all at the same time.
I know it’s nothing to really brag about but if I was only good at one thing it would definitely have to be toxic masculinity. I am the top of the stags, the peak of the passion fruits. Anger and hunger mixed into one terrifying slunder of pain.
Is it really very toxic or very masculine to refer to yourself as the peak of the passion fruits? It sounds a bit camp to me. The peak of the passion fruits would surely hang around a gay bar wearing chaps.
Okay, you do make a good point. Perhaps peak of the passion fruits wasn’t the best. What about bananas, are they an angry fruit? (botanically a berry, says Wikipedia. Shut the fuck up, Wikipedia!)
No. Gayer, if anything. You want something unambiguously alpha and macho, like a papaya or – curveball, but trust me – a small bunch of redcurrants.
Isn’t a collection of redcurrants called a Shrove?
That’s right. A nice butch shrove of redcurrants. That’s what you are.