“Adulthood” on Approach

My brother and I joined our father in celebrating my mom’s XX Birthday (Likely her 21st, but the age has been redacted to protect… well… me). The usual birthday song was sung, and the usual birthday habits ensued as the four of us sat around a half-wet table at Chili’s. And by half-wet, I mean mostly wet. Maybe I’m uniquely frustrated by restaurant workers or “bus-boys” who over saturate a cloth and wipe my table down with it, forgetting that the cloth should be rung out before it’s used, so my arms and elbows aren’t seated in a swamp. Perhaps it’s just me.

Toward the end of our dinner everybody was clapping through the awkwardness of the Chili’s staff singing their own rendition of Happy Birthday to our mother, as rubberneckers peered through empty space to find an answer to their question, “Where’s my food.” That’s right, you’re food is sitting under a warmer for the next 5 minutes while entire restaurant staff gathers to embarrass me, my brother, my father and my mother. …I guess this is the adult version of getting spanks.

Speaking of being an adult, since I’ll be hitting that milestone in a week I’ve complied a list of things to do with my new afforded status:

1. Smoke a cigar

2. Buy a lottery ticket

3. Win the lottery

4. Get another cigar

5. Retire

Sound good? Probably not, I know. And I would include cast my vote, but there are no elections commencing at the moment. If all goes according to plan, I’ll have a ghost writer compose a book about my life and call it, “All’s Well That Ends Well.”

For now, I imagine not much will change. My birthday will come and pass, I’ll continue to attend classes at the college, I’ll keep looking for a job, exploring San Diego and then Los Angeles, eventually return to Santa Barbara – maybe pop over to the DLG and make some more friends. Anyway, Happy Birthday Mom. Happy Birthday me.

Article by Christian Weatherspoon

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