Hey, George, did you realize that we’ve known each other for fifteen years and a handful of silly business ventures?
My birthday tradition (not a long-standing one — it’s only been going since 1999) is for me to take George out to dinner at some expensive restaurant in New York. We went to Nobu in 1999, when Masaharu Morimoto — better known as Iron Chef Japanese — was still head chef and Harvey Keitel turned around to see who was playing Happy Birthday on accordion. Last year, we had the tasting menu at Babbo, one of the finest meals I’ve ever had. Luckily for my ailing bank account, the tradition dictates that I do it only every other year, and this is my year off.
Happy birthday, George! See, this easing-into-your-thirties thing isn’t so bad, is it?
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