Today is Bill’s birthday. As a gift to him, I told him I wouldn’t complain if he orders Indian food for dinner. This is a big deal, because I don’t really like Indian food very much. It’s too spicy for me. Yes, I know not all of it is spicy, but I just never got on the Indian food appreciation bus. I wish I did like Indian food more. It would make things easier.
When I regularly used to play Cooking Dash 2016, there was an Indian restaurant. I don’t play Cooking Dash 2016 anymore, because I beat all the games and playing everyday became a chore. Anyway, some of the food used in the game looked really good. I was particularly fascinated by samosas. But then I tried to eat one in real life and it set my mouth on fire. I could not finish my very first samosa, and didn’t find eating it a pleasant experience.
Bill, by contrast, loves things hot and spicy. I think that applies to his women, too. He likes women who are a little bit difficult… not totally difficult, you understand. Just a bit spicy. I think he keeps me around for that purpose. He likes a challenge. If I were as bland as grits, he’d get really bored. Personally, I love grits, and other bland foods like potatoes and pasta… must be all that British/Irish heritage I have. Bill is happy to have flames coming out of his mouth.
Actually, to be honest, I told Bill that maybe we should go out to dinner tonight. He went looking for a place to go, but found little availability for tonight in Wiesbaden. He wasn’t too upset about it, though. Bill says that when a person gets to a certain age, birthdays aren’t that important and don’t need to be celebrated. So then I said, “I guess we should stop celebrating my birthdays, then.”
“No, no, no…” Bill said, “I like celebrating your birthday.” And he does, too, because it’s an excuse to go on a trip and/or eat a really nice meal in a restaurant. We usually do something fun for my birthday. I like celebrating Bill’s birthday, too. It gives me a reason to buy cool stuff.
This year, it was guitars. Last year, it was a cut crystal mixing glass for cocktails that I noticed him admiring when we went to Cologne last year to see the Eagles. In other years, I bought him knives from Japan or Germany. He started out loving the German Wusthof knives and graduated to Japanese knives. Our taste in knives has expanded. When we met, I was still using shitty Farberware knives.
Ten years ago, we were living near Atlanta, and Craft Atlanta was still operating. Bill had been wanting to go there, so I told him we should book a table. He hesitated, but I insisted that his birthday was worth celebrating. We ended up having a fantastic time, especially when I encouraged Bill to order a $61 steak. It had been dry aged for thirty days and I remember the waiter who looked after us got a look of sublime pleasure on his face. Maybe it was because of how good the beef was… or maybe it was because he was expecting a big tip, which of course he got. I remember coming home from that dinner with lots of amazing leftovers. I was so sad when I heard that Craft Atlanta closed. But then we had to move, anyway… and now, eating in a restaurant is a huge hassle.
I recently reposted a picture from that evening. Bill was driving my then new car, a 2009 Mini Cooper convertible. I still have that car, and it still has under 50,000 miles on it because it doesn’t get driven much. We may take it on our upcoming trip, though, because it’s fun to drive it at this time of year, with the top down… I look forward to spending some quality time outside, maybe swimming and taking pictures, reminding myself why it’s better to hang around here than peace out.
Last year, on Bill’s birthday, we were headed home from Leipzig, reeling over picking up a new car, seeing Mark Knopfler perform, and running into him and his band in the hotel restaurant. Six years ago, we were on our way home from Virginia, having just visited my father on his death bed. He died two days later, and we spent the rest of the month preparing for our move to Germany.
As for Bill… he’s downstairs at his computer, working from home. I probably ought to make him a cake or something… or give him some birthday sex. Unfortunately, the door on the washing machine is on the fritz, so it’s probably better not to risk getting jism on the sheets until we can get it fixed. I don’t know that 2020’s birthday will be as exciting as past birthdays have been, but just so everyone knows, of course I care that today is Bill’s birthday. I thank God his mom was able to have him, because he’s a real gift to me.
Happy birthday, Mr. Bill! Yes, you can have takeout Indian food… and maybe we can have birthday sex, too. 😉 Or at least a hickey…