There's a Fine Line Between Birthday Celebration and an Angry Mob Forming

This weekend I had occasion to be sitting in one of those chain restaurants that seems to thrive these days. It was one of those places where families gather to thrill at bizarre memorabilia hung on walls and peanut shells thrown haphazardly about on the floor, something I never really understood the appeal of until I realized that for the first time I left a meal not concerned about the splash damage my son had caused in the area surrounding his booster seat. Dinner was good, we got to visit family, and everything was overall swell, but I did get to witness one of the more bizarre rituals this country currently offers - this accosting of someone on their birthday.

I'm not sure when this started, but at some point in the last twenty years it was decided that upon discovering someone's birthday, the entire waitstaff at a restaurant must stop what their doing, surround the table where the poor sap is sitting, and bellow out some nominally clever birthday song while presenting them with a piece of cake or something. Now, I'm a huge fan of birthdays, and personally admit to being a tremendous attention whore when my own rolls around, and yet I find this entire process mortifying. The idea of being surrounded by strangers hollering off-key while an entire restaurant turns around to see what the commotion is (and figure out why they haven't gotten their drinks) is not one I associate with birthday fun, free dessert or not.

This actually amplifies the already awkward tradition of the birthday song. Personally, I always find it slightly uncomfortable to sit there while friend and/or family sings "Happy Birthday" to me. I mean, it's weird, right? It's not like someone singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" because I saved someone's cat. Basically, I managed to go another year without dying, and while that's surely a win in my book, I don't know that it warrants being sung to. Presents for sure, but being sung to I'm not sold on.

I guess I miss the way Bill Knapps handled it. Those lucky enough to be around when Bill Knapps was still in business, they did it right. A nice version of the genuine "Happy Birthday" song would briefly replace the music playing in the restaurant, all the incredibly old people eating there would pause briefly to look around and see who it was for, and they gave you a chocolate cake. Not one piece - the whole &#%$ing cake. It was quiet and dignified, and I don't recall anyone ever seeming horribly embarrassed by the process.

Of course given the average age of their patrons at the end, I imagine that the current practice would have led to more cases of cardiac arrest than deep fried bacon.