How J-A got her stripes

In my mind - and as it turned out, in my mind alone - the dinner was a birthday party for M.'s friend, H. Not really for me - I was experiencing birthday pains. I didn't have any idea what I wanted to do for my birthday so I didn't want to have to celebrate with H. just because he shared the same birthday. But as soon as M. and I joined the others at the table, it became quite apparent that this was not the event to display my independence.

M.'s friends are The Family. The boys have probably sworn a blood oath when they knew each other at the age of fifteen. The girls, an assortment of wives, girlfriends and sometime-girlfriends, are part of The Family because they are - so much time has passed since they've known each other. Their jokes can go back to 2000 A.D. ; M. and I have only known each other since 2003. The boys are friendly enough, if never to the point of displaying any interest or curiosity in me as a person. Prior conversations with the girls have left me somewhat intimidated - each of them took turns to recite how long they've known M. for and how they've observed this or that about him. Finally, I said, "Ladies, you may have prior claims on him but that doesn't mean you have to marry him," in a jokey sort of way.

The Family raise their sangria-filled glasses to toast me and H. There are more toasts as the paella, lobster tails and steaks come in. One of The Family has ordered a three pound steak which is so rare it looks blue. He ceremoniously carves out the dark meat to whoever at the table asks for it. There are still more toasts. The sangria is dark and poisonous; a sea of laughter roars in my ears and I know that I am drunk. Still, I decide to eat as many wine-soaked pieces of apple as I can. Out of the corner of one eye I can sense M.'s slight frown as he sees me absorb more alcohol, but the other side of the table is giggling about how drunk I am.

The cake comes with three colourful candles ablaze for H. and me to blow out, and a sign saying 'Happy Birthday People'. H.'s girlfriend explains there wasn't enough room for both of our names to fit on the chocolate piece, so in an instant, we are transformed into their Peopleness. The strawberries are sweet and the cream light and luscious. The mind of the Peopleness is soaring deliriously through the air as I finish off all the cream on my plate. How strange it is to celebrate my birthday with strangers and M. Or are they friends of mine and is it M. who is the stranger? It isn't my birthday today anyway - why are we celebrating it today? What am I meant to do on my real birthday? I don't understand this. My mind is wandering aimlessly now, and my body feels heavy. I decide it doesn't matter if I have more to drink. The decision to drink more simplifies everything, clearing away all the confused thoughts in my head, and now I am radiantly happy. I am grinning like a doped up chipmunk.

The Family approved.