If you really knew me, you’d know well enough just how much I love surprises. Throwing them, really. This makes me the worst candidate for any kind of surprise, I guess, since I have every aspect of it (white- lying, logistics, etc) down pat.
Last Saturday was yet another one of these surprises my friend Angel planned to throw for her hubby’s __th birthday. She had booked a suite at one of the hottest hotels in Singapore today, contacted a caterer, ordered the balloons and the cake… and we basically just helped her do everything else that very day of the party- from cabbing around the city to pick everything up, doing up the room, getting everybody else there on time, etc.
It’s well past Saturday now, and I kid you not- my head is still swimming and my body’s still aching from whatever transpired over the weekend. Right after a really good dinner and prior to a legitimate “night- out” at the hotel’s club on the 56th floor, we had:
– a (drinking) roulette betting game
– a (drinking) word guessing game
– a (drinking) drinking game
… which basically ensured that half of our group had enough buzz to actually dance in public, later that evening. Most of us couldn’t even remember the last time any of us had gone out clubbing i.e. “dancing at the Disco”. Yes. That more or less quantifies the average age of the group. It would be most polite to say though, that everybody was well past the legal age for buying vice.
That surprise birthday party was so much fun, we all could’ve been just 21. Or 18, in other parts of the world.
That surprise birthday party was too much fun, my actual __ year- old body still aches in so many places and I don’t even know why. Ha!
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