Wednesday, January 21, 2004

Tonight was one of most chillingly windy days in recent memory, gentle reader, and I just knew that the person who invented the word “blustery” probably did so on a similar night and promptly blew away. Neatfreak was born on this day twenty-three years ago, so four of us wheeled over to this hole in the wall for some fun anecdotes and tasty cuisine.

With every conceivable element of surprise ruined, this birthday outing could have ended in a spot of cynicism and bad luck. It’d be like following a rainbow in hopes of finding a pot o’ gold, only to discover a greedy leprechaun who had suff o’ cated in a vat of nacho cheese. And I think the Simile Factory just erupted in flames.

What’s important is that the dinner went well, and we stayed long after the restaurant shut its doors. Most of the patrons filed out, the food went back to the kitchen, and the waitresses sat down to a hearty meal of–guess what?–noodles and wine. It was a fine night, the kind that makes one want to list off significant states before devolving into a primal scream.