The Standard Birthday Party

First I must tell you that as of late I REALLY haven't felt like posting. Many events and stories have knocked at my door and begged to be exploited, but when the pen is too heavy and the paper is too large... Or however that saying goes. (I suppose since I just made up that saying it goes just like that.) Anyway, I'm dusting off the keys and advancing cyberspace once again.

My birthday happened this month. Actually, the rememberance of my birthday. Well, no one that celebrated with me remembers the specific miracle... The recognition and gift giving happened this month. And it was a story worth being told. Not my birth, (although I like to think that the ladies thank their lucky stars for that.) but my birthday this year.

THAT NIGHT: My boys got me all set up in a cool posh hotel room at the Standard in downtown. We had a room with cool orange couches, a hottub sort of thing, a giant bathroom/shower combo, and this enormous black foam foot that I'm sure lots of fun nasty things have happened on (so I tried not to touch it, although I did a couple of times... "Hey, it's a huge black foam foot!" touch, touch, squeeze.).

After beers and room service it was up to the dance floor. The dancing took place on the rooftop and was heavily guarded by a bunch of kids who were trained at some underground Nazi camp. Once we were beaten by the guards we were free to party. The dance floor was really cool except there wasn't anyone on it. So, I soaked up the incredible view and waited for the rest of my friends to arrive... 2 hours after they were supposed to be there, everyone was accounted for. So, I headed downstairs to greet my guests. On my way into the elevator a guard grabbed my wrist and cut off my rooftop access wristband.
"Why did you do that?" I inquired.
"No one can leave and come back after 11pm." said the Nazi.
"I have a room here." I explained.
"You'd have a different band if you had a room here." said the Nazi.
"No, there's been a mistake. I have a room." said me.
"..." shrugged the Nazi.
The elevator doors close. At the bottom floor I find my friends and hug.
Drinks are bought and gifts are opened. I then head to the front desk to purchase more wristbands for myself and my guests.
"Hey. How's it going? Hey, my wristband was cut off by one of your cool bouncers." I slurred.
"I'm sorry. Here's a wristband that will allow you to go where you want." said the pretty lady.
"Thanks. Here's money (Lots) to buy all of my friends wristbands too." I think I said.
"Sorry, we're at capacity. No more people can go up on the roof." the pretty lady said.
"But there's lots of room and I'll buy you access too!" I wish I hadn't said.
"There's no way you're getting more wristbands." The once pretty lady said.

Party in my room! I sneaked all of my people into my room. Room service arrives. We chat, we drink, we all watch me get into the hottub with shorts and a tie on. Nazis showed up and told us to keep it down or there would be hell to pay. Then paparazzi showed up and snapped off some cool pics. They were escorted out and then I think I realized there weren't anymore people in my room accept my two brothers. So, I got out of the tub and went to bed. While one friend polished off all of the champagne and wandered the halls, the other soaked in the tub in his underwear.

NEXT MORNING: Room service finally arrived with the coffee, croissants and towels. We packed up and headed to the elevator where we met up with the head Nazi guard, Paul Myers. One awkward elevator ride to the bottom floor and we have the names of the people we're going to complain about. After having our complaint dismissed and thrown into the trash we left and saw Batman (great film).
Some phone calls were made before and after the movie. The owner of the Standard was informed of the Neo-Nazi problem, more names were taken, and justice was served.

Cool gig, huh? Bet you wish you were there. Maybe next year. Except you don't know when my birthday is and you don't know where it's going to be. Fools!