A Birthday and a Brit

While I’ve been holding my breath waiting for my Indo invite to come, I turned 27! As you would recall from “Birthdays of the Past 5 years,” I tend to have pretty memorable (/forgettable) birthday parties. There are few things I love more in life than having all of my friends in the same place to celebrate. so this year was weird to not have a big party in NYC like I have for the past 4 years.

Nonetheless, I wanted to have a birthday bash in Kuala Lumpur and timing worked out perfectly that my birthday fell on a Sunday (and due to my work schedule, Sunday is the new Saturday). The party was Sunday night, but the celebrations started on Saturday night at dinner with my friends. When they shouted something about a birthday, the bartenders came over with a beer funnel for me to chug, really made me feel like I was back in college, what a phenomenal way to start the birthday! We went from one bar to another, ending up a reggaeton club with the rest of our crew.

As we were dancing, my beautiful blonde friend L whipped her hair back and forth and hit a British dude right in the face with her goldilocks. Not the most conventional way to start flirting with someone, but we are thirsty and anything is better than nothing. I told him he was fine because it was my birthday and her hair is pretty. His answer? “Well in that case, I guess you need a birthday kiss.” Okay… if you insist I guess I’ll take one.

The Brit gave me a kiss and bought me a birthday gin and tonic and we chatted at the bar for a while. He had been backpacking around SE Asia for a while and was in KL for a few days before moving to Australia. This of course spurred 20 questions, but Ricky Martin was playing so we put the convo on hold while I pretended that I was a good dancer (I am most certainly not).

I added him on FB and headed home, as I had an early morning hike planned for the next day (which btw I was incredibly hungover for — hello 27). I told him that I was having a birthday party that night and gave him the address for a 9pm arrival. Poor guy had no idea what he was signing up for when he said yes…

After an amazing birthday hike through the Malaysian jungle to hidden waterfalls, we made our way back to the city to get the party started. And one thing that I neglected to mention was that it was a Wig Out party because… why not have a weird ass birthday party with wigs in Asia?

Around 9pm, the crew started to come over and the theme did not disappoint. Everyone killed it with the wigs, going above and beyond my expectations for the party. Such a funny theme, and even funnier when my new British friend walked in and ~30 people were dancing around in wigs… LOL. I’m a bit shocked he didn’t walk right out the door TBH.

Everyone had their party pants on and the party ended up being a smashing success. The Brit even took turns wearing my friends’ wigs to get in the full spirit of the night. I had a permanent smile on my face, totally in my element, and it didn’t hurt that I had a cute guy with an accent by my side for the night.

One of the best things about KL is all of the street food at all hours, so our crew moved the party to the food before heading home. I had a few pork buns and then course decided to stop into a bar on the way home for that last drink that nobody ever needs. And the drink of choice? Why not a Long Island Iced Tea? What on earth was I thinking? Clearly wasn’t.

As the crew headed home, I was shouting about all of the love I was feeling when my foot slipped right off the sidewalk and I slow-motioned tumbled right into a gutter. And then laid there for a solid two minutes, thinking that yes, this is 27. What a wonderful way to start the new chapter in my life from a gutter on the side of the road in Malaysia with 2 skinned knees, I guess it can only go up from here, quite literally.

The next day, I hung out with my new British BF, who, for some reason, didn’t get scared away from the night before (or wasn’t sick of me yet?). We walked through Chinatown, went for a swim in the hotel pool and when we were exhausted and still hungover, we decided on Domino’s delivery to the hotel FTW.

I called the delivery service number, spent a solid 10 minutes explaining my address to the woman on the other side of the line and as I was about to confirm my order, my phone ran out of credit and the call dropped #digitalnomadproblems. Honestly, it was more tragic than falling in the gutter the night before. It took about 30 minutes to figure out how to get in touch with Domino’s, but when those Cinnastix finally came, all was right with the world.

When it came time for me to start the workday at 10pm, I sugarmomma’d the shit out of the Brit and got him an uber to the airport with the promise of visiting him in Australia sometime soon.

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