My Unimpressive 40th Birthday

 

My Unimpressive 40^th Birthday
by Rob Cottignies

This story might bore you. That is not an accident.

I woke up at 5 o’clock the morning of the 40^th birthday and had to run into the bathroom. I will exclude details but it was not pretty.

Some people are afraid of turning 40. Some people also think large rocks millions of miles away affect our moods.

But, possibly because one of those rocks, my nose began leaking.

Not running. Leaking.

While eating breakfast, I suppressed a sneeze even though I am very aware of how bad doing that can be. Then a second sneeze sneaked up on me and was loud enough to evoke an ‘Eeeewwww!!!!’ from some girl in the café.

I blew my nose and what emerged was deep orange in color, like dark egg yolk.

‘Strange’, I thought. ‘But I am eating an omelet, so the coloring is probably from that.’

What a ridiculous idea.

(Mind you, I had survived four decades and learned basic Science.)

My nose would not stop emitting the orange goop and I was mildly concerned, dreading the idea of spending my birthday (or any day, really) in a hospital.

The episode ceased about an hour later but was enough to qualify as traumatic.

…

I planned to spend my 40^th by myself since that’s what happens anyway. I pretend it makes me more comfortable. I dislike attention and wanted to do as I pleased without having to consider anyone else.

But why go to Maryland, a place some have described as a sad glop of sauce on an otherwise delicious 50-piece pizza?

(As far as I know, I am the only person who has ever said that.)

A Faroese singer named Eivør was starting her first-ever U.S. tour on my birthday, so I got a fourth-row ticket and was actually excited for the show.

The National Museum of Health & Medicine, which displays odd things in medical history, was a 45-minute walk from the hotel. Add a Dominican restaurant along the route and my birthday was set.

Then the museum temporarily closed.

Then the Eivør show was postponed.

(Remember COVID?)

…

Despite my birthday plans being eliminated, I went to Maryland anyway, since my hotel room was not refundable.

During my walks around Silver Spring, I saw a homeless woman begging for change in the same spot for long periods of time on consecutive days. I have not worked a “proper” job since 2007, so perhaps my memory is foggy, but I recall it being a lot like going to the same spot for long periods of time on consecutive days. Of course, I know nothing of her situation, but in the face of that ignorance- get a job.

Instead of sulking around Silver Spring (which I considered), I ventured into Washington, D.C. and went to the African American History & Culture Museum, which was much bigger than I had thought and very detailed. Excellent, interesting place.

After the museum, I faced a dilemma- walk a short distance to what appeared to be an average bar/restaurant or walk 45 minutes to a beer garden I could not find much information about.

The latter sounded more exciting, though I wished some of that missing information had been available. I never want a big production for my birthday, but the girl who checked my identification should have at least acknowledged it.

The place was a sad sprawl of tables with a limited beer list and no food. Bavarians of the 1800s would be furious.

Hungry and unsatisfied, I decided to take the train back to Maryland.

…

The homeless woman was still there, I continued giving her nothing, and going to the hotel to collect myself seemed like a great idea.

While waiting for my frozen beer to thaw because the refrigerator was awful, I decided to order edamame and lo mein.

Yes, I had my 40^th birthday dinner alone in a hotel room. And yes, I was OK with that.

Not wanting the entire night to be dull, I went to a nearby brewery to read.

I sat and there was a woman at the next table. In my 40 years, I have never tried to pick up a female in a bar, so I thought it was about time.

I watched her for a little bit (probably like a creep) and noticed she did not have a beer. I also saw her repeatedly look at her phone, as if she was waiting to hear from somebody.

And then he walked in.

Moustache, thick-framed glasses, plaid shirt- the whole generic hipster stereotype.

I was mildly bummed at first but that went away quickly after hearing her speak. She was LOUD, seemingly to make up for how dull she appeared.

(Perhaps as dull as this birthday story.)

…

To recap, my 40^th birthday consisted of early-morning diarrhea, a leaky nose, a puzzling homeless woman, an awesome museum, a long walk that was not worth it, dinner by myself in a hotel room, a failed potential date, and going to bed before midnight.

The next day, I put my parking receipt into a machine, which then asked for my credit card. After that got stuck, I called the number on the machine and spoke to a guy who was polite but not helpful. This was a Saturday morning and he suggested I wait until Monday when “they” would be able to retrieve my card.

I then found out it was a free weekend and the gates were open, meaning I could have just left without interacting with the machine at all.

(For anyone interested, I cancelled the card after much unnecessary frustration.)

The nice part of the weekend was hanging out at my friends’ brewery with them and various other people I have known for a long time, including a guy who flew across the country just for it.

There were many laughs, tasty beers, and even a Golden Girls sing-along.

Overall, it was a good weekend.

I hope your special days are even better. Cheers.