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One of my co-workers told some people at a recent office party that his birthday was a few days after the birthday person's. He tells me he made this up simply to upset her by turning 25 only days after her, but I suspect he is telling the truth. Since he won't give me another date for a birthday I keep wishing him a happy birthday. Happy Birthday!
On the 84 today, a young man sat next to the woman behind me. "Happy Birthday" said he to the young woman.
—How did you know it was my birthday?
—Yours is on the 26th, and mine is on the 27th.
—Happy Birthday to you too then!
In other Earth-moving news, the Lisa Loeb woman with the Cabela's bag was on the 50S. She was a tiny bit more disheveled than she was last time, and just as unsmiling. The bus was empty enough that I could take the bench behind her. Peering over her shoulder, I saw that she was reading the Cyrillic type again. This time, I noticed a small handwritten "RUSS 3012" on the margin of what was likely a syllabus. So it was Russian! She got off at the same stop and walked several paces behind me all the way to Akerman. I think she was on her way to language classes at Folwell.
Posted by Underblog at February 28, 2005 4:54 PM
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