Happy returns

Last month, my best friend pulled a fast one on me.

We met for lunch at Subway, as we try to do every couple of weeks, on a Thursday. Although it happened to be my birthday (which he knew), it wasn't a birthday celebration; at my age I'm lucky if I even remember that it is my birthday, let alone do anything to celebrate it. When we departed, he mentioned that he and his wife were having family and a couple of friends over on Saturday for some cake and ice cream in honor of their anniversary the following day, and asked me to come by. Sure, I said.

Well, you probably can see where this is going. The "anniversary get-together" was merely a clever ruse to lure me to the first surprise birthday party anyone has ever thrown for me, complete with, yes, ice cream and a luscious cake, prudently decorated with just three candles (the full number would undoubtedly have triggered smoke alarms throughout the neighborhood). Besides my friend's family, he had invited two of my former colleagues from The Company, and even arranged for another former colleague, now living half a country away, to call for a welcome chat.

Maybe I'm unusually dense, but I swear I never suspected a thing. I've been included many times in their holiday dinners and kids' birthday parties, so the invitation didn't seem at all unusual. Anyway, it was a more than pleasant surprise all around. Thanks for fooling me so thoroughly, Tim.