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Shaw's 27th Birthday: A No-Game Diary, Part I
07/17/06
by Shaw
Love taught me that a house is not a motel. My father taught me that a car is not a toy. And my birthday taught me that Everclear is not tasteless.
No-Game:
Saturday morning, 07-15-06:
9:00am: Having heard from various sources that you need 4 hours to let it soak into the watermelon, I buy a bottle of Everclear from Liquor store.
9:30am: Giller and I don our lab coats and goggles and set to work. We cut neat round holes into two watermelons and split the Everclear between two bottles, jamming the bottles upside down into the melons.
10:00am: The melons have each absorbed 3oz of liquor.
10:01am: We decide to cut air holes into the watermelons to help drain the bottles faster.
10:30am: The watermelons have absorbed 3.5oz of liquor. This is not looking good. Giller draws a line on the Everclear bottle to check the liquor level against.
11:00am: Bumping the watermelons seems to help the liquid go down. Giller puts his melon on the dryer while it's running.
12:00pm: The melons have absorbed 4oz of liquor. We give up, cork them, and put them in bags for transport to the park.
Pregame:
Tuesday Evening, 07-10-06:
Having had a low year, I thought this year I would not feel like having a birthday party. Giller, Japes, and Meg have other plans, offering me a choice between a party, a barbecue, and a bar. I immediately relent, insisting on both a BBQ and a party (at a bar). Giller makes the Evite for Saturday. Later on he mentions Sunday and asks what I want to do on my real birthday. I say that Saturday is my real birthday. He says no it's not. I say yes it is. Saturday is the 16th. No it's not. Yes it is. No, Saturday is the 15th, Sunday is the 16th. No, it's not, Saturday is the 16th. Like Wild West cowboys, we each grab for our cell phones and open the calendar programs. Giller's right. How can I have been wrong about my birthday all the way up until just 5 days before?
No-Game II:
Saturday afternoon, 07-15-06:
3:00pm: 20 People arrive at Rock Creek Park. No one knows each other. No one there knows anyone but me. My friend Greggo saves the day by having brought bocce ball and a kickball. We play bocce ball for an hour.
3:10pm: We place the first watermelon on the table, and open it up. Shaw takes the ceremonial first bite. It tastes like death. It tastes like a ground-up corpse. It tastes like my ground-up corpse. I finish about 1/100 of my bite. I declare that it tastes like death. Everyone else gets their piece ready to try.
3:15pm: The consensus is that it does, indeed, taste like death. The strategy becomes to find the piece with the least Everclear in it, which runs counter to the whole point of the Everclear watermelon.
3:20pm: I find a piece with not as much liquor in it. It tastes oddly like pumpkin. I declare that it tastes like pumpkin. The group agrees that it does, strangely, taste like pumpkin. This doesn't seem to make sense. Everyone seems to be agreeing with me out of kindness. Maybe they don't know it's not really my birthday.
4:00pm: It seems like time to make food. Giller stacks the charcoal carefully on the grill. Japes readies the match. Meg averts her eyes. I stare greedily into the barrel of the grill, anticipating the flame-up. Japes lights the match, dropping it in. Nothing happens. Again. Again. Shaw grabs some paper, tries to light several briquets at a time. No dice.
4:15pm: Our options exhausted, Japes builds a fire out of wood on top of the charcoal and gradually feeds the briquets in. The barbecue will happen after all.
4:30pm: While food is being cooked, others play kickball. Giller's 21 year old roommate and his 21 year old friends play with us. They are still close enough to the age where they could have remembered playing in middle school, and are very good. Their team wins by many many runs. We stop playing when, simultaneously, the food is ready and the heavy rains start.
5:00pm: The rains stop. Our spirits are still crushed. Alyson arrives with her dog. The dog likes the kickball.
5:45pm: In the cleanup, I remember the other watermelon. I can't even make myself do anything with it. I throw both melons in the trash.
6:00pm: The BBQ officially ends when the dog, still on his leash, runs in a circle around Meg to chase after the ball I may or may not have kicked, making the wire-thin leash cord grate on her leg until it slices her skin off and causes her to fall to the ground, lame. She stands with some difficulty and stumbles to the car.
Tonight will be interesting, I tell myself.
... continued below:
Shaw's 27th Birthday: A No-Game Diary, Part II
07/20/06
by Shaw
Warning: This column may contain evidence that Shaw is sometimes able to actually enjoy himself while out in public. Read at your own peril.
Pre-game:
Tuesday, 07-10-06:
I head to Baltimore to meet up with my friend Blake and buy myself a birthday present at a record store there... I have a list of 20 CDs I want; I consider myself lucky when they have 5 of them. Holding my 5 CDs*, I head to the counter to check out. My credit card is declined. Sure that there is some mistake, I pay another way, walk out of the store, and call up the credit card company.
Shaw (me): Hi, I was calling about the--
Citibank (cb): Hi, did you use your card at a record store just now?
me: Yes, well I tried to, I was declined.
cb: I see, okay. And did you use it at a grocery store in Columbia Heights yesterday?
me: Yes.
cb: And a gas station two days ago in Maryland?
me: Yes.
cb: Okay, so you're traveling, then?
me: No, as you can see these locations are all mere miles away from my house.
cb: Right, okay. Well as it turns out, the program we had you under was not profitable for the company, so we terminated all of the memberships yesterday.
me: Awesome.
So I am credit cardless until I finish moving later this week and can get my backup card out of storage. In the meantime, it is thrice daily trips to the ATM that keep me alert and spending.
No-Game:
Saturday, 07-15-06
8:50pm I hustle out of the Metro at U Street, running to get to the Black Cat so I can buy tickets for myself and 3 friends to see Thee Silver Mt. Zion and Tra-La-La Orchestra on August 2... tickets are $5 cheaper if you buy them at the club, you know.
8:58pm I buy tickets for the show. The surreptitious cancellation of my credit card has left me with the instinct to have cash on me, so I pay with what I have, leaving me with only $5 and no credit card. This doesn't seem ominous at the time.
9:00pm Konicki calls to ask what time he should come. He mentions that his back is in terrible pain. I say 10:30, saying that this should be about critical mass. He agrees.
9:05 pm Giller is not with me because he had to go to another party first. I consider this a high honor--when going out on the town, it seems like an insult to be the first person someone goes out to see, since that means they'll inevitably be leaving early for something else. Giller's absence means that I am solo, stag, alone, soltero.
9:06pm I arrive at the door to Stetson's, winded because I have walked so fast. I feel that even though I am alone, I have an obligation to arrive to my own party at the designated time.
9:07pm No one from my group is at Stetson's yet. In fact no one is there at all. I am easily noticed as I barrel through each room at the bar to search for my friends. This is already pretty depressing.
9:08pm I walk outside. I mention my pathetic situation to the girl who is checking IDs at the door, something like, "Man, it's really pathetic to be the only person at your own birthday party." She looks up from her crossword, ponders me briefly, and looks back down. I say, "I'll be back." She pencils an answer into the puzzle.
9:09pm I take the extra time to go find an ATM from my bank, just in case no one actually shows up and I need to buy my own pity beer without a credit card. This should not take long, as Chevy Chase Bank is the most prevalent among all ATM providers in the District and suburbs.
9:15pm There are no Chevy Chase Bank ATMs in the entire U Street corridor.
9:20pm But there is one in Dupont Circle. 16 blocks away from my original location, I secure cash.
9:22pm Walking back, I overtake 10 different groups of people all walking in the same direction. I wonder aloud why I am in such a rush.
9:25pm Someone passes me walking on the street. Impressed, I consider inviting him to my party.
9:26pm Judging by his pants, I realize he is walking fast because he is on the way to work at a bar kitchen, so he's probably busy tonight.
9:30pm I pass by a stack of LSAT review books on the stoop of a townhouse. I consider stopping and leafing through one of them. Perhaps Law School is the answer to all of my troubles.
9:31pm Perhaps not. I still feel hurried for some reason.
9:36pm I arrive at the bar. I ask the girl outside, "So did any fun-looking people show up here while I was gone?" She says, "Umm no. Only 3 people have come and they didn't look fun." Obviously this means I am still solo. I walk inside to check anyway. My friends are not here. As I walk out, the girl says, "there's just no one here tonight." I can't wait. I say, "I'll be back again," and try to think of another ridiculous errand I can run. I chew through 4 pieces of Big Red gum.
9:37pm I call Konicki back again. It's hard to hear because of the gum. I tell him no one has arrived yet. He groans because of his back pain, and says he will arrive imminently. I silently worship him.
9:40pm I find my friends Leanna and Andy on their way in. This heartens me. We walk in together, and run into my friends Liz, Abbey, and Anupa. I am doubly heartened: I am now arm-in-arm with 4 attractive women and one (attractive) man, and I am ready to make an entrance into my own birthday party. Unfortunately there is no one to impress, as the bar is still totally empty.
Pre-Game II
Thursday, 07-13-06
I have checked the Evite for my party about 20 times. I have invited 60 people, most of them from different pockets of my life: mathematics at Maryland, post-college a cappella, GW choir, my freshman dorm, the GW admissions office, and people who I met in other random ways... in each case they are groups of 10 or so people, and in most cases, they are totally separate groups who don't know each other. What worries me is that the responses indicate that there will two or three people from each group, making the night potentially awkward. Thankfully, Japes, Meg, and Giller both know or have met almost everyone from each group. If there are problems, they can entertain and help bridge the gap...
No-Game II
Saturday, 07-15-06
9:43pm We arrive at a table in the patio. The deserted patio. The empty, music-free, silent patio. It is clear that in this environment, silence will be much more awkward than if we were inside. I nearly suggest a change of venue, then decide I am being paranoid.
9:45pm I receive a text message from Japes. Meg's shredded leg (shredded by me just hours earlier, see Part I above) is not in good condition. They cannot make it out. I feel slightly disheartened about how much this party will be held together.
10:00pm The drinking really begins. I am handed a beer by an unknown party, and a round of shots gets delivered. I believe I had some input on what kind of shots these were supposed to be, but I do not know whether this input was heeded. They are bourbon.
10:01pm Somehow a Jagermeister shot ends up in my hand and, subsequently, my mouth. Its terminal location is presumably my stomach.
11:00pm Many more people have arrived. I take this opportunity to leave the outside patio area and enter the bar proper with Konicki, at which point Tim and KMK arrive.
11:01pm Tim and Konicki immediately start me on the birthday drinking and girl-talking regimen. While I am struggling to understand the words coming out of their mouths, it is clear that they are motioning for me to talk to the two girls next to us at the bar. I insist that I do not want to do this.
11:05pm Having learned their lesson, Tim and Konicki overcome my resistance by physically forcing me into an empty chair at a table full of women.
11:10pm Generally speaking, I am a crazed lunatic. It is not alcohol that causes this, it is what I like to call personality. I am incapable of seeming normal even for 5 minutes. This usually causes people to think/know that I am crazy.
11:15pm I don't know what Konicki and Tim told these girls when they put me at their table, but I think they think that I am just incredibly drunk, which is why my lunacy seems not to faze them. They buy me a birthday shot. I ask them to guess my age. They say 30. I leave.
11:20pm The same scenario is played out again at another corner of the bar. Tim and Konicki chat up two women and then rotate me in. I kill. More drinking. They guess 26. I doff my imaginary hat and make my way back into the patio.
11:45pm Tim, KMK, and Konicki decide to leave and meet some friends at a different bar. I do not know the name or location of this bar but promise to try to make it there later.
12:30am My friend Annie arrives with an entourage, and then my friend Bryan arrives with a horde of 8 people, redoubling our dwindling group size. We need chairs. I look around for empty chairs and spy a table with two girls and 8 chairs. I walk up to this table and the following ensues:
Shaw (me): Hey, are you guys using all these chairs?
Girl 1 (g1): No.
Girl 2 (g2): Not all of them.
me: Well, could you spare two?
g1: What for?
me: [gesturing] Those two people over there are with my table, but they're standing. We need two more chairs.
g2: Well, okay, maybe.
me: What do you mean, maybe?
g1: What would you do for the chairs?
me: I don't know, is there some kind of test of wills or physical strength we could try?
g2: Well, you could arm-wrestle me for them.
me: Okay.
g1: Okay, let's do it.
me: [clears off table and sets down, ready to wrestle]
g2: [surprised] Wait, seriously?
me: Of course! Did you think I was kidding? I need the chairs!
g1: All right, let's do this.
[Girl 2 and Shaw lock arms in a death grip. Shaw's steely gaze pierces her soul in search of a kernel of weakness. He overpowers her, crashing her arm into the table with the force of an AT-AT stomping on a Rebel soldier]
g2: Wow, okay, I guess you win.
me: Great. What are your names by the way?
g1: I'm Liz.
g2: I'm Liz.
g1: And our friend over there, that's also Liz.
me: I am Shaw. It's my birthday today, what are your real names?
g1: It's your birthday? Well then we have to buy you a beer.
me: If I beat you arm wrestling as well, will you tell me your real names?
g1: Sure.
[Shaw and Girl 1 lock arms. This time Shaw holds his arm taut at the mid position and drinks his beer with his left hand, establishing physical dominance before again destroying her. His victory is complete and devestating.]
Girl 3 (g3): Hey guys, what the hell are you doing?
g2: Just arm-wrestling this guy.
g3: Can I get in?
By the end of the night I think they told me their real names, or at least some names other than Liz. But quite frankly I don't remember.
1:00am A final shot arrives at my table unrequested by anyone present. It is from the bartender, who had earlier been checking IDs. I do the shot.
Epilogue
Sunday, 07-16-06
9:00am I wake up to help my friend Hunter move into our new house. I am slightly confused. Why am I awake? Why is it 9am? What day is it? It is 97° outside, heat index over 100°. This is not fun. One foot in front of the other.
8:00pm Japes and Meg arrive at Giller's house to eat birthday cake with me. I barely mumble, "thanks," hardly able to move my mouth. Meg shows me her leg, cut up from the dog leash incident the day before. I don't know how she manages to stand up... it is gruesome. I nearly faint. As much as I have ruined myself, I have really ruined this woman.
Happy Birthday, Shaw.
________________________
* Big Bear: Big Bear
Jackie-O Motherfucker: Flags of the Sacred Harp
Love: Forever Changes
Six Organs of Admittance: The Sun Awakens
Johnny Cash: American V
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