Today, Blondie, birthday boy, was king, and he got to decide what we did.
We had burritos at Q’doba.
We had his Park Avenue appraised at a Haley Toyota dealership. The car sales man showed us a gold Cobalt that Blondie didn’t really like. The man was relentless. I felt like I was breaking up with him. “I thought I found the right fit for you. I thought I did everything you asked for. C’mon. What are you saying? Let’s give it another test drive.”
We went to Mexico for dinner.
Now, we are lying on our stomachs, resuscitating.
I hate being this full.
Blondie asked me out when he was sixteen, and I was seventeen.
The first birthday I spent with him was his seventeenth, and that’s the day it occurred to him that we should get married. He was staring at the cake, coming up with a wish, and he was like, “Oh yeah–I want to marry Courtney.”
Then, I missed his next four birthdays because I was in college in Illinois.
Finally, in 2011, we are together again for his birthday! It really hasn’t been that big of a deal. As I said, we ate Mexican food and talked with a pushy car salesman. But it is a trip to think of what’s happened between the two days–first, a wish, and then, the actual thing.
"You got a fast car. I want a ticket to
Anywhere. Maybe we make a deal. Maybe together
We can get somewhere. Maybe we'll make something.
But me myself I got nothing to prove."
They sang to us at Mexico Restaurant. March 3, 2011.