"Well, you're not invited anyway," I told her jokingly. "You didn't wish me."
"Oh, when was it?" she asked.
"See, you don't even know that. Why should I invite you?"
Effe pouted and protested I was being mean.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Effe. I'm so sorry you forgot my birthday."
In Effe's defence, she wasn't in town on my birthday that year, and she rarely remembers anyone's birthdays. But the last two years, she has been exceptionally good to me in that regard.
Last year, she called me soon after the Guy and I got home from a late breakfast.
"Wow, you remembered my birthday!" I squealed. "I can't believe it!"
She was a bit miffed that I was so surprised. We chatted for a while. But I had this earthshaking piece of news I had to tell her, the kind of news that you can only get hyper-excited about when you're telling it to your equally uncool teenage friend from a small town.
"I saw Rishi Kapoor today!" I cried.
"Really?" She was as excited as I could have hoped. "Where?"
"At the Taj. We had gone there for breakfast, and there he was..."
"Why did you go to the Taj for breakfast? Just like that or is there some occasion today?"
You're right, I'm never going to let her forget this. (But you know I love you, babes.)