What Happened On My Birthday (Part IV)

The last part of my memorable birthday might have been the least exciting but it was my favorite. For one reason in particular.

I got to enjoy it with my family.

And on top of that I got to enjoy some great Polish food in Hamtramck.

I had decided that I wanted to go to this place called the Polish Village. Which is basically this basement turned bar/restaurant/fire hazard/possible former Polish Mafia hang-out. And it has phenomenal food. But it is always back, because on a good day it holds 50 people.

Here, imagine you are in a elevator that is full capacity. Now, imagine that same elevator is a restaurant. That is the space available in the Polish Village.

And it really came to no surprise that when we got their it was full and their was a wait. But that was no big deal, because one thing Hamtramck has in spades is fine Polish establishments.

I called the audible to go to another on of my Hamtramck favorites, Under the Eagle. But, we walked to the car we realized that there was a Polish restaurant next door called Polonias. And we decided to eat there instead.

After we ordered our food, I soon realized it was national birthday... day. And at least three other people had birthdays and the staff of the restaurant played Sto Lat. Really, really loud. And apparently the version they had was a remix and gave The End by the Doors a run for their money as it was by far the longest version of Sto Lat I had ever heard.

After the second time it was played I told my mom, "Do not even think about it."

I had to say this because my mom likes to embarrass me. And I have had traumatic birthday salutations in fine dining establishments.

Yeah, I am talking to you Joseph's Shack of Crabs. Better known to the greater public as Joe's Crab Shack.

But more importantly known to me as the place that made a 12 year old wear a cowboy hat/vest and hop on a horse on a stick and gallop around a restaurant... On his birthday.

How fudged is that?

Anyway, I could tell my mom was chomping at the bit to tell the waitress is was my birthday. So I told her the truth. I told her that I did not want to hear a recording of Sto Lat, and that I only liked it when my grandpa sang it. Because it was tradition.

And when it comes to tradition in my family, let's just put it this way, Tevye from Fiddler On the Roof and I could definitely talk shop. I am extremely strict when it comes to my family's traditions. And I cherish them dearly.


Needless to say, my mom still told the waitress and they played Sto Lat. Really, really loud. And then I realized it really is not a birthday if Sto Lat is not sung. Though, I still wish it was my grandpa singing it and not a recording. 


And then we got the bill. Now, when my family dines out. And my grandma is there, and when the bill finally hits the table. 


The battle begins.


My grandma God bless her is the most fascinating woman I have ever met, and I love her to hell and back. She is 87 years old and absolutely takes nothing from no one. Lightning could strike right in front of her and she would just walk through it. And I absolutely adore the fact that she is my grandma.


But, I swear to God when that bill hits the table, she becomes an animal.


She adapts the reflexes of a cat and snatches the bill right off the table. One time she even snatched it out of my mom's hands.


She even argues with me about paying the bill when I take her out to lunch.


The argument usually goes like this:


Grandma: "Don't you waste your money"


Me: "Grandma, the bill is 12 dollars."


Grandma: "Well, don't you need that money for gas?"


Me: "Not really grandma."


Then she gets up to go to the bathroom usually and in those instances I take that opportunity to pay the bill and leave a tip.


This causes her to demand that I take the 20 dollar bill she is forcing on me. All the while I tell her that I do not need. Though she still demands I take it.


And this bill was no different. She demanded that my mom take 30 dollars and it ended with me stuffing the 30 dollars back in her purse only for her to find it.


Oh, my family.


They always know how to make my birthday memorable. And this time it was no different.


No matter what they do I always end up saying to myself, "I love my family."


Or as they say in Poland:


"Kocham moją rodzinę."