Birthday Blues
December can be such a dreary month. Car show season is over, and there’s less to do, especially if you’re not yet ready to get into the holiday spirit.
Usually, by this point in the year, my Mustang is parked for the winter. It’s not that Mustangs don’t like to play in the snow – rear wheel drive and slick roads can make for some fun driving. But the salt they dump on the roads to melt all the snow and ice causes cars to rust out. If you live in the Rust Belt and like your car, it’s best to have a winter beater. In my case, that’s a Volvo station wagon, about the exact opposite from a Mustang as you can get.
We’d only had flurries so far, and that hadn’t necessitated plow trucks dumping salt. I pick my car keys up – the Mustang’s in one hand and the Volvo’s in the other. Which car do I take?
If I take my Mustang I can listen to my iPod, but if I take the Volvo I’m at the mercy of the radio stations. One of our local radio stations switches to Christmas music on November 1st and keeps playing it past New Year’s. As such, they get taken out of my presets until they stop. Some folks call me Scrooge, and the ponies have taken to calling me Snowfall Frost, who I quickly gathered was the equine equivalent of ol’ Ebenezer. Not that I have anything against the holidays – far from it. The simple fact of the matter is my birthday falls between Thanksgiving and Christmas, and I just can’t get into the Christmas spirit until after my birthday passes. Other kids got to have parties when I was growing up. I had a grand total of one, on my tenth birthday, and I’d thrown myself another one as an adult. Total headcount for each was in the single digits. People just have other things to do at this time of the year.
The final factor to take into consideration is that Minty had said it was urgent that I get over to her place as soon as possible when she’d called a few minutes earlier. She probably lost another sock. That mare’s idea of what constitutes an emergency is dubious as best, but it beats sitting here alone. I toss the Volvo’s key on my dining room table. It’s an easy decision. Mustang. I start the car up, and let the V8 idle as it warms up. The sweet sound reverberates around my garage for a minute until I back out of the garage and down my driveway.
It’s a deceptively sunny day. The sun’s shining and the sky’s clear, but it’s cold with a blustery wind. It’s the kind of day that’s better spent curled up in bed with a good book… or snuggled up with a loved one. It’s also my birthday, but I’m the only one who seems to care about that. When did I get so jaded? I’m too young to be this bitter.
It's still a good day for driving and traffic is light. I put the hammer down and make some time. Minty said it was urgent; she could be in trouble.
I pulled into her housing development less than twenty minutes later. Almost every driveway on the block is full, including Minty's, as is the parking lot. People had taken to parking on the grass. I groan in frustration. Of course someone’s having a holiday party. I park next to a Jeep and angle my car a bit, hoping no one would door ding it when pulling in alongside me.
As I get out of the car, I immediately take note of the vibrant green grass underfoot even after the first frost of the season. Across the street, the grass is dull green and yellow, more appropriate for December. If you know what to look for, it's obvious an earth pony lives here.
I found my friend standing outside her front door, scraping her hoof on the ground. “I locked myself out again.”
She looked up at me with tears in her eyes and I ran my hand through her mane. None of her coworkers at the car wash had cars, so she’d given me the spare key to her house after the second time since I was the one who could get here quickest. “It’s okay, Minty. I wasn’t doing anything.” Except sulking. I should thank you for interrupting that. I squatted down and hugged her until she stopped crying. “These things happen. When I was eighteen I managed to lock myself out of my car an hour away from home. I had to call my Grandpa to come with the spare key.” She giggled at that and I stood up. “You doing anything right now? I was thinking maybe we could go get a pizza. My treat.”
She shook her head. “Sorry, but I’ve got plans this evening. I need to get in and get ready.” She nuzzled my hand. “You’re coming to my Christmas party this weekend, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” Even Minty has better things to do today. That’s to be expected, I hadn’t told her, or any of the ponies for that matter. Only a few of my friends know my birthday, and most of them tend to forget about it entirely. So I’d long since gotten out of the habit of telling people. I didn’t want to interrupt anyone else’s plans. It’s a lot harder to be upset if someone doesn’t know.
I turn the key in the lock, opening her door. The sooner I get out of here the better. This hasn’t made me feel better at all… I feel along the wall for the light switch and flip it on.
“Surprise!”
I stumble backwards, nearly tripping over Minty in the process. Her home is filled with ponies. Some of whom I know, and others I’d never met before.
“Happy birthday!”
Minty headbutts me, and I step into the room.
“Were you surprised?” Surprise swoops down from her perch behind the door.
“Very much so. I never told any of you my birthday. How did you know?”
“You didn’t have to tell me.” She smiles and I pick her up and hug her. “It’s my special talent. It’s not a surprise party if you know about it.”
I turn my attention back to Minty. “How many times have you legitimately locked yourself out?”
“Just the first time. That’s what gave us the idea to use it as an excuse. I’m forgetful, so it seemed pretty believable.”
“Thank you!” I put Surprise down and gather Minty into the hug too. “All of you.” I let them go and ponies start introducing themselves to me.