I'm of the belief that I should get to celebrate my birthday for a week. Big E is the opposite. "No party," he said a week before. "No party," he said a few days before. He finally caved at 11:30 the night before. (Probably just to get me to stop pestering him.) No problem. I can whip together a party in 18 hours, right?
Possibly. Except I'd forgotten my car would be in the shop all day.
No problem. I can whip together a party in 18 hours with no car. I have a bike. Four of them....and a backpack.
So, after work, I threw some flat pedals on Gracie, rode to the grocery store with my backpack and swerved all the way home since I was loaded up with potatoes, meat and buns. Thankfully my car was returned an hour before the start of the party. Two cases of beer and a bottle of Jamison would've been much harder to manage on the bike.
Despite the fact that he didn't really even want a party, I think maybe Big E had a good time. I judge the good-timeness of a party by whether anyone ends up 1)naked, 2)arrested or 3)on the roof.