My fetish is to meet a woman on tinder, take her to a restaurant, and excuse myself. I then go tell the staff it’s her birthday so they go sing happy birthday to her while she is alone at the table.
Aww my relatively new friends who I have a weekly social group with found out it was my birthday the one night we gathered and sang to me and it made me tear up to be that loved in a moment. I loved it. Nobody has sung to me in probably 30 years.
If, when they start singing, you get up and go to the bathroom, they will probably stop and not follow you. So, like 90% chance it gets better. 10% chance it gets much, much worse.
I’m about to take over as manager of my department. One of the first things I’m abolishing is mandatory singing of the happy birthday song. We’re fully remote and it’s impossible to sync up so we sound like a chorus of five-year-olds. Fully optional whether or not we sing for you, or even acknowledge your birthday, from now on.
I prefer going to karaoke with friends and shout singing this delightful birthday rock song in Engrish by a band from Okinawa. The lyrics are a little hard to hear so I’ll put them here:
I like birthday, I’ll become old man, and yet I like birthday
I like birthday because you celebrate
Happy happy happy birthday
I’m looking forward to so happy day
What will you present for me?
Please hold on me, I’d like you to do nothing for me
So hold on me
Please give me your love.
I, too, hate being surrounded by a warm and plentiful gathering of friends and loved ones singing a song of appreciation for me. Every year! Without fail! All of them never forgetting. There are always so many of them! Like, just for once, let me have a birthday alone in a Texas Roadhouse, which I have never done!
I had a big party my mom threw for my 40th birthday because she has a huge house and lives in the town where I grew up and half the people there never left. Another good percentage of them moved back. Anyway, I mostly ended up only talking to a handful of people who sort of monopolized me, so it was less fun than it could have been. Don’t get me wrong, it was great talking to them since I hadn’t talked to them in ages, but I ended up wishing I had talked to more people. I haven’t had a party since. Next year will be my 47th. Maybe if my mom is still around when I’m 50 she’ll do it again.
Definitely sucks to be remembered. Being forgotten and ignored is a much better way to live life. So much more fulfilling. Especially if you’re down to only a few remaining friends. The rest home is going to be awesome.
It’s so calm, no pressure, no expectations, no humans, just drifting slowly towards the warm embrace is the abyss. Even if it looks back at me - at least it’s not a human.
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