happy birthday... to me
So once my coworkers found out that both me and my manager share the same birthday, they organized a 2-hour lunch to Chuck E. Cheese. Now, neither myself nor my coworker Anna had set foot in one since we were both about 5, and both of us hated its cardboard pizza, the noise and the smell even then.
But the prospect of seeing our manager, an urbane, worldly and sophisticated Frenchman, bedecked with all sorts of shitty cardboard children's accessories, was a lure too strong to ignore.
Immediately upon setting foot in the place, Denis says: "Holy shit, it smells like diapers in here!"
Yes, Denis, it does. It's just as awful as when I first experienced it. We lasted about 10 minutes in the place before we couldn't take it anymore and went next door for burgers.
Then, after coming home, my parents had already arrived and were setting up all sorts of things. They got to dote on their grandchild some more -- who was absolutely entranced by one of his presents, a felt frog bookmark he now counts as one of his best friends -- and they even brought up materials for a sandbox for LM, made out of a tractor tire, a wooden cover with his name on it and lots of play sand. It'll occupy a proud place in the patio where I'm sure he'll have lots of fun with it.
That, and my parents gave me a super-sexy corduroy shirt that I think might give me a chance with the hot Jewish girlie over there in the kitchen; and let's also say that there will be more game porn in my future. Oh yes. Oh my yes.