Birthday present FAIL
Posted by Lissa on August 22, 2008
Dammit, dammit, dammit. Lissa just struck out.
We sat down at one of my favorite Boston restaurants, Brasserie Jo, to celebrate Mike’s birthday (no, I’m not telling you how old he is). We munched on hot, crusty bread spread thickly with fresh salted butter and sampled their carrots, weirdly but not unappealingly coated in some sort of dressing. The server popped our Chauteau Greysac Medoc, we sampled a splash and filled our glasses, then toasted each other while I practically writhed in my seat with anticipation.
For you see, good peoples, I really thought I’d picked out a winner. All wrapped in red tissue paper, decorated with a red tissue paper flower, and inside a red bag, was The Ultimate Matrixtrilogy in HD DVD. As necessary background, you must understand: I hate the second and third Matrix movies with the power of a thousand fiery suns. My sister and I like to pretend that they were never made; there was one movie, The Matrix, and nothing came after, they all lived happily ever after forever’n'ever amen. So the fact that I’d bought him the repulsive follow-up movies — and by tacit implication was willing to watch them — was a present in and of itself. Add the fact that we’d (unsuccessfully) looked for The Matrix in HD on Netflicks a few weeks ago, and I really thought I’d hit this one out of the park.
WRONG. Turns out, they don’t make HD DVD players anymore, so Mike doesn’t buy them anymore. It would be much better to get the Blu-Rayversion that comes out in October. I was a bit puzzled that he wasn’t jumping up and down for joy, and he thought I really needed an explanation, so he very gently suggested that we exchange it for the Blu-Ray. To both our horrors, my eyes started leaking. I wasn’t CRYING, mind you. It’s just that my tear ducts got a faulty signal from my brain and decided to start working overtime. Stupid tear ducts. Poor Mike was guilt-stricken like you wouldn’t believe, as I desperately tried to close the damned floodgates and stop crying into my Steak Frites. Boo!
They messed up the steak, too; it was medium-well, instead of their usual beautiful medium-rare (as I ordered it). Hmph.
P.S. No, it wasn’t that bad. I managed to stop the weepy-works (felt like THE MOST PATHETIC LITTLE GIRL IN ALL THE WORLD), the frites were delicious and the steaks were pretty good, and we followed with exquisitely-made Profiteroles (for him) and Floating Caramel Islands (for me). I’ve already got a backup present for his birthday, so I guess he’ll get the Blu-Ray for Christmas. And they all lived happily ever after forever’n'ever, amen.