This is the blueberry cake with raspberry icing that Jacob’s girlfriend’s mom, Pam, made. It was fantastic! Raspberry icing is every bit as delicious as it sounds.
(This was several weeks ago, but Brie asked so sweetly if I’d put our night up on my blog and how could I refuse?)
On Jacob’s birthday, there were eight of us who went out to dinner: Jacob (obviously), Brie (his girlfriend), me, Ed, the boys, Mom (aka Oma), and Brian (our baby brother). We went to one of those Chinese restaurants where they cook fried rice and meat in front of you with enough salt and butter to make our Mom happy and we also had some sushi. Jacob and Brie had early Easter plans for the next day, so after dinner, we went back to Mom’s house and the little boys played video games while the adults sat around the kitchen table having a great conversation and trying to make each other blush. (I may have been the only one who blushed.) We all took turns trying to make Mom laugh so hard she choked. We were successful!
I had plans with Mia and Misty from Ed’s office to go out for drinks and possibly a drag queen show at the local gay bar. Mia assured Misty that I am great fun when you drink with me. I’m not quite sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. (Am I such an ass that it requires drinks to make me tolerable or am I the life of the party? I’ll go with life of the party!)
Jacob and Brie suggested that we could all go out together the next night and it was a fantastic idea!
I met Jacob and Brie along with one of Brie’s best friends and a friend of Jacob’s from high school at a local pub. Mia met us shortly after she got her kids up to her sister in Oklahoma. There were plenty of drinks shared. Brie declared it a boys night because when Jacob had previously declared a girls night, he got sloppy drunk and Brie wanted to get a little tipsy and not have to babysit her boyfriend. I told her that was a fantastic idea.
(Everything that she says is a fantastic idea. I love her! Can I have her for a sister?)
We all piled into my suburban and headed to the gay bar. I had no idea where it was, so Mia in the last row was yelling directions at me.
At least we live in a smallish town and I know my way around pretty well.
(As the responsible adult (read old as hell) that I am, I didn’t drink since I was driving. Blah! It’s a good thing my kids go to bed early so I can drink at home!)
So we finally ended up at the gay bar and apparently, I am a geriatric old fuddy duddy because I expected the party to be in full swing. It wasn’t. There was hardly anyone there. Normal people would have realized that at 9:30 on a Saturday night, no one has left their house yet, let alone started the party!
So, we stayed there. Everyone else ordered beers. The bartender offered to pay all of Jacob’s bills for life. (He far underestimated how expensive it is to keep my brother happy.)
Jacob’s friend from high school (he’s my friend too) and Brie’s friend were overwhelmed by the ambience, so they went to play pool at the one pool table in the joint. The pool table was in a secluded room behind a curtained wall.
The pool table room also turned out to be the dressing room for the evening’s entertainment!
We stayed for an hour waiting for the show to start. Jacob asked Brie repeatedly where the “strippers” were and told her he was so excited that she’s brought him to a strip club for his birthday.
And then the bartender who had taken such a liking to my dear, sweet brother passed behind Jacob and oinked at him. Like a pig.
I’m still not sure what that meant.
And then the show finally started. The first performer was at least 6 1/2 feet tall and was wearing 6 inch heels and had another 6 inches of hair. She danced and lip synced to the music. Mia gave Jacob a dollar and Jacob found a place to put the dollar.
The first dancer, whose name now eludes me, turned out to be the emcee for the night. The first thing she demanded to know from the audience was where all the straight men were. Jacob yelled and pointed to himself and may have gotten on top of a stool to make himself taller. (We’re some short people. He had to do something.) Then she asked about straight women, lesbians and gay men. There were significantly more whoops and hollers than there had been for the straight men.
Like any good emcee, she approached Jacob who had proclaimed himself to be the one different person in the bar.
“What’s you name, big boy?” she asked.
“MY NAME IS JACOB! IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!” yelled Jacob into the microphone.
Their conversation went downhill from there.
We stayed to watch 6 or 7 more dances and Jacob put dollars down the dresses of every dancer.
He’s a gentleman like that!
We finally acquiesced to our friends’ pleas to go somewhere a little more mainstream. (I think they were really just miffed that their pool table was stolen.)
We piled back into the Suburban and headed to a local bar which had a live band playing. Everyone else had a couple more rounds of beers and ciders. I got a diet coke BECAUSE I AM A WILD WOMAN!! (Someone had to drive.) There was a little arm wrestling match at the table just like back in high school.
My exciting discover of the night was that if you clink a full beer bottle onto the mouth of another beer bottle with a little force, the beer on the bottom will spray beer foam for quite a distance. Jacob was lucky enough to miss me with the beer foam!
We must’ve stayed there for an hour. It was long enough for Jacob to arm wrestle and spill beer on the table at least four times. The ladies discussed leaving and then informed the guys that it was time to leave.
As we were leaving, Jacob yelled, “My name is Jacob and it’s my birthday!”
Neither one of us is an attention hound. He just can’t hear. There may have been some broken beer bottles and bouncers chasing us out of the bar and threats of violence and the usual, end of a magnificent birthday party bloodshed.
So really, kind of like a normal Saturday for us.
And that, dear friends, is what happened for my little brother’s birthday.
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