Birthday Tantrums

Birthdays in my office are, in my humble opinion, over-celebrated. A card, a bazillion emails, lunch at a restaurant and cake and ice cream later back in the office just seems like a whole bunch for people who really are only in each other's lives beacuse they were hired by the same company. I don't mean to sound like the Birthday Grinch, because I'm not really: I love birthdays. Maybe it's just that I think a much better celebration would be to give the Birthday Person the day off instead of making them attend to normal work in between long lunches and the lingering threat/anticipation of the phone call from their boss that is going to lead them into a "surprise" birthday party.

Usually the lunch portion of the day is coordinated by whoever is the closest friend of the Birthday Person. For years, then, this meant that Witty Comeback was in charge when my birthday came around. Alas, not this year. No. This year, my birthday celebrations fell into the hands of none other than Overshare herself. I realized then that this whole process was rather, how shall I say, unstructured. Because Lord knows I wouldn't choose Overshare for this job if she were my last option available. I'd take a pay cut first.

For weeks, I endured conversations like:

Overshare: So, Anonymous, where do you want to have lunch on your birthday?
Anonymous: Well...
Overshare: You'd better start thinking!

or

Overshare: So, Anonymous, where do you want to have lunch on your birthday?
Anonymous: I was thinking that a lunch wasn't really necessary...
Overshare: Of course it's necessary!

or

Overshare: So, Anonymous, where do you want to have lunch on your birthday?
Anonymous: I was thinking of...
Overshare: Oh, I know the perfect place! What kind of cake do you want?
Anonymous: Well...
Overshare: You'd better start thinking about it! Your birthday is just two weeks away! Sheez!

So finally, my birthday came around. FINALLY.

A group of us (more her friends than mine, p.s.) all went to the restaurant that Overshare hand-picked. Lucky, lucky me. Once inside, Overshare takes a seat at the far end of the table. I take a seat in the middle, figuring that it's my birthday so I should probably sit somewhere that I at least have a chance to talk to everybody who was so nice as to come celebrate it with me. How silly of me, really. Once we're all seated, the Drama begins.

Overshare: Hmph. [Rolls eyes.] HMMMPPPPHHH.
Anonymous: What's wrong, Overshare?
Overshare, loudly: I planned this whole stupid thing for YOUR birthday. The least you could do is sit by me.
Anonymous: What?
Overshare, much too loudly for a public place: I planned this WHOLE THING and you won't even sit by me!
Anonymous: I just thought I should sit in the mid--
Overshare: Oh, whatever. Let's just order and get this over with.

Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birth-day, dear Anon-y-mous...

Anonymous: Do you want us to rearrange?
Overshare: Doesn't matter to me.
Anonymous: Well...
Unreasonably Nice Intern from HR: Here, switch with me, Overshare.

They switch seats. Overshare primly places her napkin in her lap before turning to me and fixing me with a Death Glare.

Overshare: Now, was that so hard?