Birthday surprise

I didn’t sleep well last night: down at eleven, I woke back up at midnight and then couldn’t get back down until about four or five this morning. Today I felt hideous, but my wife had organised a surprise dinner for me.

Unfortunately…

Unfortunately my wife had organised a surprise dinner for me at 7:30pm. London time. Or perhaps that was the surprise.

You can damn Facebook for this, for trying to be helpful and scheduling a 7:30pm dinner in the time zone my wife was inhabiting, rather than where I was. I got to the restaurant at 7 with a couple of friends, as it’s traditional to arrive at your party half an hour before most of the guests do.

I stayed drinking prosecco until about eight, when we realised nobody coming, because they hadn’t set themselves on an eight hour offset from the world. Then we left the restaurant and walked over to Meat Locker, an uninspiringly named burger joint where there was once a shady karaoke bar/knocking shop, the last vestige of Duxton Hill’s red light zone.

Meat Locker does great burgers though, even the vegetarian one, so I quaffed a strong cocktail, ate a burger and then slouched home to feast on the birthday cake I brought back from London and then call mu wife up to explain about timezones.

And tomorrow, we get to do it again. Birthdays without end.

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