Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 8 degrees, cold, grey, rainy and overcast.
It is Monday, and it is my birthday.
I’m 58 today—where has the time gone? It also feels a little strange that when I look at myself in the mirror, I see someone who looks older. Clearly, I’m not the person I was at 50, 40, or 30, and certainly not at 20, but my mind remains sharp, and my ambitions are unchanged—my sex drive too. However, physically, I am not the same.
Life can sometimes be cruel or perverse.
I was woken up exactly one minute past midnight last night, marking the start of my birthday, with Yasmin and Nalva calling to wish me a happy birthday before anyone else had the chance.
During the day, I also received birthday wishes from friends, immediate and extended family, pupils, ex-pupils, and others. I think there were more than 70 messages on Facebook alone, which is fewer than in previous years. Five years ago, it would have been at least 120. Perhaps some people have passed away, stopped using Facebook, or simply no longer wish to wish me a happy birthday.
Although it’s not as important as it used to be, I am still grateful for all the birthday wishes.
Jessica and Mario called me; they were on the beach in Arraial do Cabo, a Brazilian seaside town about 120 kilometres from Rio, often called the Brazilian Caribbean for its transparent turquoise blue sea and perfect beaches. They were waiting to catch a ‘savero’, a kind of Brazilian sailboat, to go on a tourist boat trip in some of the most transparent waters in Brazil and the world.
The signal wasn’t excellent, making it hard to hold a conversation, but we managed to talk for about 10 minutes. It was nice to speak with my eldest daughter; unfortunately, we’re not very close. We usually exchange messages once a week or every two weeks and only meet on bank holidays and special occasions. I’m pleased to say that I think Jessica looks very happy married to Mario, which, as a father, is the most important thing. I like him and always want them to be happy together.
When I got up, my mother had prepared a gift package with two bottles of wine and a birthday card. She had made it the night before and left it on the kitchen counter, waiting for my attention when I went downstairs at about 6:30 in the morning.
I did not open it because I believe that in such situations, the giver should physically present the item to the receiver for it to carry meaning genuinely. It’s similar to giving a business card in Japanese culture, where you should always offer the card with two hands.
The person receiving it should also accept with two hands, demonstrating sincerity in both giving and receiving. I think when giving a present, you should really hand it to the person to show that your gesture is genuine; it’s not just about placing it somewhere for them to pick up.
Because of the expression, ‘It’s the thought that counts…’ and the importance placed on the thought and the intention, you wouldn’t simply leave it; you would actually deliver it yourself.
I spoke to Julie as usual early in the morning. She wanted me to go to the café, and I had already decided to go. I wanted to see her since I was planning to have lunch with my mother. I also knew I was arranging to go out for dinner with Julie. It would be difficult for my mother to accept that, but it’s my birthday, and at this point in my life, Julie is a priority, especially while I am in England.
I knew I would eventually get some vindication from my mother, but that’s just how it is. After speaking to Julie, I did some exercise and posted my daily blog. I needed to catch up on my journal entries, so I planned to go to the café and write discreetly.
When I walked through the door of the café, Jim was in the corner at the back, and his first words were, ‘Happy birthday, Richard’. I asked him how he knew, and he said it was because of Facebook, and probably Julie, too.
And consequently, anyone who entered the cafe and knew me, whether directly or indirectly, would be informed that it was my birthday. Julie came in and said in front of everyone, ‘Happy birthday, Richard,’ and they then put a banner on the wall behind my chair with ‘Happy birthday’ written on it.
Everyone came out, clapping and singing “Happy Birthday” with Julie, Jo, Jim’s wife, and Jim, who had brought a small cake with a candle for me to blow out and pose with for a photo to be posted on the cafe’s Instagram stories.
As everybody could see that I was embarrassed and did not really like this kind of thing, it was an excuse to provoke me even more, which, all in all, was nice. It is nice when people go out of their way to please you in some way or another. I am not one of the oldest customers at the cafe, but they genuinely want to make you feel welcome.
I’m not sure if it is because I am dating one of their employees, but I am very grateful for the warmth and kindness they have shown me. On the way out, Julie was clearing a table near the door; we quickly said goodbye and naturally kissed, with neither of us trying to force the situation. It was something normal and beautiful.
When I arrived home, it was already midday. My mother was awake and physically gave me her present. I thanked her, we hugged, and we talked. She didn’t have the means to go out for lunch, and I wouldn’t be able to go out with her tomorrow, which she didn’t like very much. So, we decided on Wednesday to go to the Pavilion on the other side of Wolverhampton.
Well, it was more her decision, and I had no choice but to go along with it. Often, it’s just the way it is.
In the afternoon, I did a bit of work, chatted briefly with Julie, and then rested a little before meeting her for a birthday dinner for two. The only problem is that it’s a Monday, which means the options are very limited for the evening. We had planned to go to a BBQ steak house in Stourbridge.
However, from the photos, it wasn’t very interesting, so when Julie picked me up, I suggested the ‘Island Pool’, a restaurant and pub out in the countryside. I’ve been there a couple of times with my mother; it’s a carvery. In these meat-based restaurants, a chef carves some meat onto your plate, and then you select as much side food as you like: vegetables, salad, fries, etc.
By Brazilian standards, it is modest and not the most refined restaurant in the region, but it is certainly not poor or the worst. Furthermore, we would probably opt for the main à la carte menu and skip the carvery.
After Julie picked me up, we had a brief conversation, and we realised our options for a Monday night were limited, so we headed to the ‘Island Pool’.
It’s very near, only 10 minutes away, and we arrived to find the car park completely packed for a Monday night. Julie had to park in the other car park at the back, a little hidden by a wall, which turned out to be good for us at the end of the night.
When we entered, I was impressed by how busy the place was. A female waitress greeted us and showed us to a table for two. We ordered. I chose fish and chips, and Julie ordered a steak. The food arrived and was quite decent; we also ordered two desserts to share.
When we were leaving, we were the last to leave. We had closed the place, which is quite a nice feeling. This was something I often did when I was young, staying late with friends to be the last ones to leave.
When we arrived at the car park, located at the back, hidden behind the main building and wall, we found ourselves alone in the dark; it was very dimly lit with few lampposts or streetlights. When Julie turned on the music in the car, it suddenly played a beautiful song by Clarence Clemons called “Miracle,” an acoustic, slow saxophone piece that we both liked, which put us both in a relaxing mood.
Julie asked us to stay here in the car for a little while without going anywhere. We ended up kissing a lot because of the cold outside and the warmth inside the car—a lovely night with dinner in the countryside, just being together. The kisses were different, slower, more sensual, more erotic—I don’t know whether it was just the music or probably the whole night, the company and the situation.
It was quite surreal, making for the perfect ending to the night and my birthday.
After 45 minutes, we decided to leave, as the car park gates might be locked, leaving us stuck for the entire night. On our way home, we stopped at our other car park near the café and shared some more kisses and a little more quality time.
We picked up where we had left off at the other location. Once again, the intimacy was more profound and greater than usual—what a night and what a woman. We share a connection that is only improving. Eventually, we had to leave; she left me at home, and I was in bed by 1:00 am.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
