Happy Birthday (in Dutch) to my loverly baby sister Cecilia.
Poor Cecilia - I feel like she's constantly getting the brush off. And not because it is intended that way! It simply happens!
She had such great plans for tonight, such simply marvelous plans. Well, the plans were mediocre at best, but she was really excited about them just the same.
See, my baby sister (now 22 years of age) had never been to the Stress Factory - a comedy club in New Brunswick - so she decided that she wanted to go see a show there for her birthday.
Slowly, however, the plans that were originally so intricately layed out sort of flaked away like filo dough in a texas sand storm and the large group that we had initially planned on going dwindled down to just Cecilia and myself. Dude, it would have been so loser for the two of us to go by ourselves. I'm not really quite certain why that is, but I feel quite strongly about it.
So anyhow, Cristina, Kelly and I discussed this beforehand and decided that, yes, Cecilia DOES in fact always get the short end of the stick. She is continuously dealt the "something-or-other" card (this is not an actual card, mind you, but I cannot right now remember the term used for a bad car. Simply "bad card" perhaps? Who knows).
How then should we approach this deliciate subject? How am I going to break the news to her and let her know that we're going to have to scale it down a bit?
So we came up with a game plan. We figured we had one of two options. We could get my baby brother a fake ID (he needs one anyway) and all go out to a cheap bar for lousy drinks and way-too-loud music -
OR we could buy roofies, take Cecilia out, buy her a cheap drink and slip her the roofies, take her home, put her to bed, and then fill her in tomorrow morning on what a wild party we had the night before. She wouldn't ever remember a thing anyhow.
And none of that generic brand roofies - we go for quality, name-brand shit only please. Thank you.
I'll have you all know as well that Roofies is the date rape drug of choice. Please make sure not to fall too terribly behind on the fashionable date rape drug of the moment.
Alright, enough of that. So what did we end up doing?
Well, I was coming back from Long Island through the city anyway so I stopped at a cuban bakery/tattoo shop in Newark and picked up some roofies.
Cecilia has been sleeping soundly for a solid 5 1/2 hours now. We have her going-out clothes hanging out on the line while we all smoke cigarettes in a circle around them to give them that "Garden State bar" smell. This plan is so incredibly glorious.
OK, so seriously? We ate ice-cream, made s'mores in the microwave (bad idea, by the way) and watched Matchstick Men (good idea, thoroughly).
As they say in Copenhagen: Gelukkige Verjaardag, Cecilia!