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MHA #8, Saturday
Stark had spent a good portion of yesterday working on a birthday cake. He'd considered cupcakes because that's what he usually made but a full-size cake was different and possibly more special, so he'd gone with that. And he'd covered the cake with purple and gold edible glitter. It had seemed appropriate and he'd found it amusing. He only hoped the recipient of the cake would as well.
The cake was on the table, along with far too many takeout containers for two people. Not because he'd ordered and received too many. He'd ordered from several places on purpose. That way there were choices. Hopefully at least one was correct.
He wasn't entirely confident he'd done enough for this birthday, given that the 3 most recent birthdays he'd attended had involved 21 bars in a row (Stark was very glad he was not going to be visiting 78 or even 24 bars today), a very large and loud arcade, and a glittery western themed party. He was also a little worried that it might be more than Faye really wanted. He'd have to see.
He thought she'd be pleased. He hoped she'd be pleased. He'd find out either way once she arrived.
[For the purple-haired 78 year old!]
The cake was on the table, along with far too many takeout containers for two people. Not because he'd ordered and received too many. He'd ordered from several places on purpose. That way there were choices. Hopefully at least one was correct.
He wasn't entirely confident he'd done enough for this birthday, given that the 3 most recent birthdays he'd attended had involved 21 bars in a row (Stark was very glad he was not going to be visiting 78 or even 24 bars today), a very large and loud arcade, and a glittery western themed party. He was also a little worried that it might be more than Faye really wanted. He'd have to see.
He thought she'd be pleased. He hoped she'd be pleased. He'd find out either way once she arrived.
[For the purple-haired 78 year old!]