Friday, June 11, 2004
Tit tag!
Okay, Mowrer, since you shared "The Sandwich Incident..."
So, the Posies were playing a show at the Moore Theater in Seattle. This was getting to be an early summer tradition, these shows at the Moore, following gigs there at around the same time of year the last two years. This time Chris had another commitment that night (I forget what it was--any light you can shed, Mowrer?) and unfortunately couldn't attend. The good news was that Tara was able to come, and a fine concert it was.
Afterwards I drove Tara home to Lynnwood. When I dropped her off, she invited me inside.
No, ya pervs, it's not that kind of story.
So I went in, said hi to Tara's mom, got offered drinks and a comfy chair, in which I hung out while Tara and her mom said they had to do something in the kitchen.
A minute later, they come out with a cake, candles and all, singing "Happy Birthday." I smiled, and blushed, as they serenaded me and set the cake in front of me.
"Um," I started. "Thank you, but...it's not my birthday."
I should also point out that there were the wrong number of candles.
After a brief, exciting array of awkward moments, I got it out of them that Mr. Chris Mowrer, my best friend, had told them that my birthday was June 20th, 1971, when it is, in fact, July 21, 1970.
So I thanked them profusely even as I apologized. I felt like such a twat, because there they were with presents and everything, including a handmade beaded pendant (very far-out and ethnic), with 6 20 1971 hand carved into the beads. They were mensches about it; They still insisted that I open all the presents, just since they're here, and have some cake, so it doesn't go to waste, and take the rest home, where I shared it with my roommate Kim. I think Chris had some too.
A month later, when my birthday actually did come, we had a party at the apartment, and once again Sue dropped Tara off with another cake, and another big whack of presents, including a corrected beaded pendant, which I still have.
So I guess the point to this story could be that things worked out okay. Or that at least his intentions were good. Or any number of things, but most of all, what I want you to take away from this, is the date of my birthday.
Copyright 2004 Rich Bowen
So, the Posies were playing a show at the Moore Theater in Seattle. This was getting to be an early summer tradition, these shows at the Moore, following gigs there at around the same time of year the last two years. This time Chris had another commitment that night (I forget what it was--any light you can shed, Mowrer?) and unfortunately couldn't attend. The good news was that Tara was able to come, and a fine concert it was.
Afterwards I drove Tara home to Lynnwood. When I dropped her off, she invited me inside.
No, ya pervs, it's not that kind of story.
So I went in, said hi to Tara's mom, got offered drinks and a comfy chair, in which I hung out while Tara and her mom said they had to do something in the kitchen.
A minute later, they come out with a cake, candles and all, singing "Happy Birthday." I smiled, and blushed, as they serenaded me and set the cake in front of me.
"Um," I started. "Thank you, but...it's not my birthday."
I should also point out that there were the wrong number of candles.
After a brief, exciting array of awkward moments, I got it out of them that Mr. Chris Mowrer, my best friend, had told them that my birthday was June 20th, 1971, when it is, in fact, July 21, 1970.
So I thanked them profusely even as I apologized. I felt like such a twat, because there they were with presents and everything, including a handmade beaded pendant (very far-out and ethnic), with 6 20 1971 hand carved into the beads. They were mensches about it; They still insisted that I open all the presents, just since they're here, and have some cake, so it doesn't go to waste, and take the rest home, where I shared it with my roommate Kim. I think Chris had some too.
A month later, when my birthday actually did come, we had a party at the apartment, and once again Sue dropped Tara off with another cake, and another big whack of presents, including a corrected beaded pendant, which I still have.
So I guess the point to this story could be that things worked out okay. Or that at least his intentions were good. Or any number of things, but most of all, what I want you to take away from this, is the date of my birthday.
Copyright 2004 Rich Bowen
