Birthday

It was my birthday last Sunday. People still send cards through the mail, it's kind of nice, really. I've been receiving them for the last few days. A mantle piece of birthday cards, kind of old fashioned, but kind of pretty to look at.

We went to Sebastian’s restaurant for my birthday, Shane, me and He-who-shall-never-be-mentioned, at QV, Saturday night. My oldest mates. Sebastian laid on the meal, seven courses with wine to compliment each dish. Oysters, salmon and sitaki mushrooms, soft shell crab, salted calamari, rare beef, rice pudding and ice cream, champagne, desert wine, Riesling, red wine, vodka, coffee.

I didn’t feel drunk afterwards, despite all the alcohol.

There was a cute as a button restaurant hand, Nathan. Small, Italian, handsome, sexy, bundle of energy, not yet out of the closet... so in the closet he can see Christmas presents, said Sebastian.

You know how not-out-of-the-closet-young’uns just naturally gravitate towards groups of gay guys, almost sniffing it out with their noses. Interested, sparkly eyes. He couldn’t stop looking at us, coming over to talk with us. He just wanted to keep chatting. The three of us wanted to help him with his gay virginity.

Twenty two and as cute as anything.

We went to Sircuit and drank two schooners of beer and felt maggotted afterwards.