Last weekend I had the fortune to have a surprise (well kind of...) birthday party thrown in my honor.  Normally in the past I have celebrated my B-day with family, which would consist of us going out to dinner followed by me going to a bar with a few friends where my night would usually end (fairly boring I KNOW).  Who would be so bold to break me from my mundane tradition?  The culprit was none other than my girlfriend Zdenka, she single-handedly orchestrated the festivity (with support from other friends).

Since my birthday (August 31 for those who didn't know) fell this year on a Monday, Zdenka decided that it would only be appropriate to plan the party for Saturday night (to better accomodate the inevitable next day hangover). 

So Saturday arrived and I had made plans with Zdenka to go dancing with our friends Evelyn and Lorenzo in Barranco at Rustica (a rather decent place with a fairly large dance floor).  I arrived at Zdenka's house at around 8pm and ended up waiting nearly two hours for Zdenka to get ready (she was stalling).  On our way to Barranco, Zdenka was constantly texting and talking on her phone to people who she assured me had to do with work (she was talking to the invites).  When we got to Rustica Evelyn and Lorenzo were already inside and had snagged a table, which seated 10 or more (I found that rather odd at the time).  We order a few 1 liter size beers that come in these huge mugs, at which point I started to suspect that something was up.  Then Zdenka's phone rang and before I knew it she was gone, a few minutes later she returned followed by a horde of my friends and family (at this point it all finally came together). 

With the surprise out in the open the party began to take off.  The music was great, the beers plentiful, and the feeling that someone (who went through all the trouble of putting together a surprise party) truely loves you made the night wonderful and more than I could have asked for.  But wait it doesn't end there, oh no there is more to this than I have discussed yet. 

My favorite cake torta helada (cold cake) a cake covered in jello, was brought out by the work staff at Rustica and the entire bar began to sing happy birthday in tremendous unison. 



So there I was enjoying my party without a single problem and then the DJ comes on the speaker to announce that he "needs three brave men to come up on the bar and compete to see who has the best dance moves".  This is roughly when I noticed that I was being dragged across the dancefloor and to my horror towards the bar.  Before I could even argue or run away I found myself standing atop a bar with two other dudes facing a full bar of people (this is the kind of situation that most of us fear).  Out of the speakers can the bump and roar of (one of thousands of roughly identical) reggaeton songs.  Realizing that I had a pair and slightly buzzed on watered down beer I began to do what came natural to me and shaked my thang (and quite well if I might be sold bold). 



When the music came to a halt the DJ called out to the crowd for a judgement in an American Idol (God I know I just referenced that show) kind of way.  Now I am not pulling your chain nor am I painting this story in my favor but I was sure as hell shocked to find out that I had beaten my two other opponents (one of which I had suspected was gay for his persistent attempts at trying to grind up on me).  And just when you would think the public humilation would be brought to a halt, the DJ called out to any guy who thought he could out dance the Champ.  Out of the corner of the bar appeared this muscle head who hopped onto the bench (good God WHY!).  The music was turned on again and I was therefore subject to kicking ass with my awesome dance skills.  The verdict was then asked of the public who unanimously voted in my favor (SE QUEDA!), while the other dude was sent home (SE VA!). 



For having been such a good sport and being subject to such embarrasment I was reward with a free 1 liter beer (aw...the taste of victory...slightly watered down). 



The rest of the night was spent consuming medicore but still efficient libations and dancing to my favorite songs with an over inflated ego (long live the king!).  The rest of the details are kind of fuzzy but I am sure that I didn't do anything to idiotic (this time).