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Short story excerpt: "Birthdays Gone Awry"

Thursday 3/7/24

"First time I was really vulnerable? I let my two best guy friends fuck me at the same time two hours before my Sweet Sixteen party. Bet you don't hear that too often from your patients, do you? My mom put me on the pill at fourteen. She had me at thirty-nine. They both stopped being my friend after, but they got really close. They even roomed together after high school. Neither went to college."


"Guy at work today had a heart attack and all I thought was, 'That could be me.' They gave him CPR. Medics said it saved his life. Was pretty intense. Now the company is mandating CPR training."


"Dear Diary: On this grand day last year I was drunk as a fucking pig. No, make that skunk. They get a bad rap, skunks. First they smell, then they drink. Usually it's the other way around. And now this year...second verse, same as the first. Ha ha. I don't have no diary. Get me another drink, though."


"So I told her, 'Come on, babe, it's my birthday. Busting through that hymen ain't anything to be scared of. It's just like this fruit roll-up in there. You don't want that. Gets gunky.' Or words to that effect. Then it happened, man. I'm telling you, make the most of the big day however you have to."


"Well, it's sad, sure, but if you think about it, you're just as likely to die on your birthday as on any other day. I think there's a name for it. A perisher-birthday or something. Sounds like an expiration warning on a packet of strawberries."


"I know what I said. I'm sorry. We can't always get these things right. The cast will be off soon. It's just going to take a little longer. But the infection is all cleared up. And the graft is all good. It’s great. That's the important thing right now anyway."


"Let's see...weirdest birthday story...I was a senior in high school, and was having my physical and before the doctor checked me, you know, where they check you, he said, 'Now don't be embarrassed if you get aroused, it's natural.' And I don't know what got into me, but I said, 'You too.'"


"I'm pretty certain my ex-wife probably thinks about me at least once a year, because her dad and I have the same birthday. Strange, right? So I think about that every year on my birthday. That if there's one day she thinks about me, it'd have to be then, because of that odd fact. I mean, do you know anyone who has your birthday? The only people who do are probably twins. So that means every year on my birthday I have to think about how I actually still love her, though I should hate her, and I do hate her, but I love her as well. Despite what I've told everyone and myself for all that time. It's just a day to get through for me. Like a lot of days, if I'm being honest, but more of a teeth-gritter. I'll take a handful of Melatonin around four. It's funny. That used to be a party hat with an elastic that pinched my chin, a couple cupcakes, with my friends from the neighborhood and school. How the mighty have fallen, right?"




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