So, the situation last night that I was worried about? Not so much a big deal. But, and I apologize to all of my non-Richmond friends, Richmond birthday celebrations? Way more memorable than any others.

The last Birthday I went to? We ended up cruising around the Swift Creek Reservoir on a pontoon boat with some people who were also at the restaurant celebrating a birthday. (Note: the birthday girl did not come out on the boat. Maybe she had to go read People Magazine or something.)

Last night’s birthday? My Canadian friend was turning 28. (Hi, my friends are babies.) I suppose, since y’all don’t know any of these people, I need to set the scene. Or, you know, introduce them. I’ll just go with the main players.

Apple: My Canadian friend. The birthday girl.
Josie: Mutual friend of ours. Is launching her own business this week.
Prime Minister of Fun (PMF): Another friend. Fellow Environmental Engineer.
Crazy Drunk Bitch: Needs no explanation.
Flanders: Guy friend of ours. The one whose housewarming party I went to, even though I didn’t know him at the time.

So, we met downtown at Cha Cha’s Cantina for happy hour. Please note that Apple was late to her own party. A few of us including Apple and PMF walked over to Havana 59 for dinner where Josie, Crazy Drunk Bitch (who at this point was Loud but Nonoffensive Tipsy Girl) and a few others met up with us. I sat on the end of the table next to Apple and across from Josie. PMF was 2 seats to the right of Josie; Crazy Drunk Girl was seated diagonally to the right of PMF.

Anyway, mojitos (yum!), food, the waiter attempting to take my soup before I was done (the second time that has happened to me in Richmond. River City = the City of half-eaten soup?) (That waiter also did another thing I hate. I gave him $40 for a bill of $26 and he asked me if I needed change. Answer: Yes. That would be a ridiculous tip. Just bring the change without asking- If I don’t need it, because for some reason I feel that you deserve a 54% tip (by the way, that would include not taking my food away), I’ll just leave it all on the table, mkay?)

Sorry. Story. We are splitting a dessert when we all suddenly realize that Crazy Drunk Girl is verbally attacking PMF. Then she got in her face, and apparently there was a fork involved (waved threateningly) which I didn’t see. All while calling her a liar. And telling her that all her friends think she’s a liar. And they’ve all told her that she’s a liar. And gesturing threateningly with the salt and pepper shakers.

What is this thing she’s lied about? It seems that PMF was offered the opportunity to take an overseas position (overseas positions are the theme of this week’s posts) and had discussed it with Crazy Drunk Bitch, presumably when she was neither crazy nor drunk, because Crazy Drunk Bitch had just returned from an overseas posting. The lying part came in when she didn’t tell everyone else. So, I think the argument was that it was a lie of omission, but the fact of the matter is that PMF doesn’t have to share everything with everyone. It’s perfectly reasonable to seek out the counsel of someone with applicable life experience and yet not want to confuse yourself with getting everyone’s thoughts on the matter. Point: Not a lie.

Crazy Drunk Bitch would not let it go. A cab was called, she was told to leave, didn’t happen. One of our friends disappeared; it later turned out she couldn’t deal and went home. Josie, in the most awesome moment of the night, says to Crazy Drunk Bitch, “You need to leave. You are not welcome at this table. No one wants you here!” This didn’t work either. We called the waiter over (remember, not the sharpest knife) and asked him to give him her check. He hands hers over and we ask him to get a manager/bouncer. He is busy sorting out all the checks at the table.

WG: Leave them here. We’ll distribute them.
Waiter: continues thumbing through receipts
WG: NOW!
Josie: grabs checks from waiter

I gave her a pen, she signed her receipt and walked out of the restaurant, flipping us off as she did.

Flanders: Who wants a drink? They’re on me!

(We did explain to the waiter why we had gotten short with him. He had apparently missed the whole kerfuffle, though I’m not sure how he managed that.)