Friday, September 22, 2006

Best. Birthday. Ever.

After the Amok show in Rufus King Park, everyone -- all 26 of us it turned out -- went to have dinner at Tangra Wok, an Indian/Chinese fusion restaurant in Rego Park. Jenny, the musical director, and I have the same birthday, which is the best way to have a birthday if you're a person like me who doesn't really like to celebrate his birthday. The energy isn't all focused on you, and you actually have someone to share it with.

Everyone was starving, still covered in glitter and make-up, and the delightful waiters at Tangra Wok, were ever so willing to push together basically EVERY one of their tables to suit our party, which kept growing as the night went on--as other friends poured in from other circles.

Then the food began to arrive. It was truly a banquet. A huge long table, with fifteen people on each side, bowl after bowl of incredibly spicy food, with flavors so layered, so elegant. There was much oohing and ahhing, and grunts of satisfaction all around. There were Spring Rolls and Chicken Lollipops, Papaya Salad and spicy sesame chicken, incredible garlic noodles which were so spicy that the same bowl of them went around the entire table. Manchurian sauces. Thai Curries. Lemon Coriander soup. There was Chili Cauliflower, Honey Lamb, Ginger Lamb, Chicken with the chef's special sauce. Beer after beer after beer.

The Amok crew bought me a massage at the Nickel Spa. Kip brought some Sesame Street stuff for us to wear/play with/enjoy. We sang Happy Birthday to each other, and there were two other birthdays in the restaurant, so we sang once more for each of them. They stood, they laughed. We all stood and laughed. Jenny and Susan and Jessica sang the Chowder Song, and people looked at is like we were all crazy--and we might be.

Finally, there were cupcakes and candle-blowing, and the waiters brought this huge ice cream bombe with mango, pistachio, rose and coconut ice creams. We sliced it up into about 30 pieces and passed it all around. And for a moment there was only the sound of spoons on melamine.

One for the history books.

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