Moya's 40th Birthday Party

* Warning: this is a true story. Some images may be disturbing for viewers younger than 40.

***

‘Two full English please’ he says..

and these are the first words that make sense the morning after the night before.

Is 11.00 am, I am sitting in The Wish Tower cafe and the sun glasses are dark but not dark enough…so I close my eyes, for another minute until a piercing sound hits from the left:
“Mummy, Alex is throwing stones at the fish..”
Then from the right:
“Mummy Nicky hit me in the head...”

***

Yes I am a parent of two and so is the man in front of me who looks ill but managed to somehow order and pay for a couple of brunches.

We are both quiet, we don’t move much, our bodies hurt and pain is written all over our faces. I cannot yet decide which part I would like to dispose of first: my head or my feet. Men are lucky, it must be only their heads taking the blame. For everything...

Food arrives.
Forget ‘mama’s specialite de la maison’ or oysters or Xmas pudding or brownies and cream. This is IT: it’s grease and we need it. The coffee is not great but is hot and probably black.

Something is pushing through, images behind my eye-balls are coming back to hunt me. Brain becomes the Enterprise (to infinity and beyond!) penetrating a field of flashbacks. There’s no ‘beam me up, Scotty’ button, and probably no alternative transport would allow a body saturated with alcohol to travel any distance, not a yard, not an inch. So I sink deeper in my chair and remember...

***





the night started really well (please notice people being friendly with each other, their eyes still open!)



people were gathering in small groups...



..and dancing



and dancing...



and laughing (for no reason!)



and dancing...




and clapping...



and maybe loosing it a bit...



some people did not miss a thing...



unlike others...



and this was only the beginning of the end...



we helped each other at times...



for some it was too late...



but the important thing was our iron will...




of being there, despite our ..(whoops, I was gonna say age) tiredness..



and maybe level of alcohol..



we smiled...



and smiled...



and held each other...



as only friends know how to when you turn 40...


Happy Birthday MOYA!