Craig's 30th
Meanwhile, Craig and I had agreed on a quiet dinner for two at Speranza’s, a charming hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant on West Fourth street.
We all had at least one foot in the restaurant biz back then, so it wasn’t hard to find a waiter that somebody knew. He identified us easily and phoned in a warning when we called for the check.
It was only about 9 o’clock when we pulled up to our darkened house. Craig unlocked the door and froze. Pirate was wearing a hat.
"Elizabeth, there’s something wrong,” Craig hissed with real alarm. Flash bulbs popped. Everybody yelled, “Surprise!!” and “Happy Birthday!!!”
If I hadn’t been standing behind him, he would have run away. As it was, he was trapped. He was pulled inside, where crepe paper was hung so thickly you could hardly walk through the room.
We sang happy birthday, all the verses we could think of. We made him cut the cake, eat the cake, serve the cake and open his presents and try them all on. We made him wear a hat and cape.
We had a great time, and hopefully, after a point, he did, too. Looks like it, don’t you think? [More pix: 1 | 2 | 3 | back]
[Additional little slideshow of the party]