Korridorium

♫ Happy Happy Birth­day ♫

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I enter the cor­ri­dor, flick on the light switch, and, to my sur­prise, find myself fac­ing a whole crowd of friends throw­ing stream­ers, blow­ing noise­mak­ers, and shout­ing, “Happy Birth­day!” Awk­ward Peter is even wear­ing a col­or­ful paper party hat. I play along, clink­ing the cham­pagne glass they press into my hand against every­one else’s, and answer the ques­tion of how old I’m turn­ing now with a wink: “Younger and younger, of course, younger and younger.”

They stay until nearly mid­night. Some­how, I didn’t really feel com­fort­able with the whole thing. And sure enough, look­ing at my doc­u­ment folder as the clock strikes twelve, I real­ize they made a mis­take. My birth­day isn’t until today. There is still some cham­pagne left in my glass. I raise it and toast myself.