Reason number 896

I tried to skip my birthday last week. 56 is no milestone and besides I was busy with the new company and Dark was working in New Zealand.

Speaking of my new company we moved into the new offices two weeks ago. Since BP is our major client we decided to office near their corporate headquarters. I found us space in a period building on St. James Square. It’s a short walk from both Green Park or Piccadilly Circus tube stations and a short ride from the South Kensington station. I have no trouble making the commute in the mornings but I can’t seem to navigate the return trip after work. I blame it all on my new friend, Tony Micelotta.

Scott and I decided we needed a drink after work a few weeks ago so we headed to Dukes Hotel bar, a short stroll around the corner. Tony is the head barman. We ordered martinis. Tony rolls out the ingredients on a drinks trolley and mixes them at the table. I have to tell you he makes the absolute best martini I have ever had the pleasure to drink. And they are huge – 5 ounces of gin in each one. Dukes has been officially designated our company bar.

After the first martini I suddenly realized the wisdom in the Dorothy Parker ditty:

I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I'm under the table,
After four I'm under my host.

So I limit myself to two … two - every day after work. This company better be a huge success soon because Dukes charges £15/$30 for each one. And after two martinis there is no way in hell I’m going to try to ride the tube home so I step outside the hotel and take a taxi home and there goes another £15. Going back to work is getting expensive.

Anyway I was all set to ignore my birthday. I made no special plans and turned down a couple of offers for dinner and drinks with friends. I told Jane I would take her out to eat after I got home from work. When I got home I found a note saying she was working late and to call Dark on MSN. I sat down at the computer, logged onto MSN and started caming with Dark. He looked so tired. He asked me what he could give me for my birthday and I made several lewd suggestions adding they were going to be difficult for him to deliver since he was halfway around the world. He said if that was what I wanted then that was what I was getting and promptly logged off. I sat there laughing still half gassed from my two martinis. A few minutes later he shocked the crap out of me by walking into the room. He had been upstairs the whole time having flown 23 hours in coach to get to London for my birthday. That's why he looked so tired.

So that’s reason number 896 I love him. Reason number 897 is … he gave me exactly what I asked for my birthday.