in the last hour of his twenties, Lewsar decided to take a seat at the street corner music&bar. the bartender greeted him good evening and shoved over a shot of tequila. he took the shot and said: “a round for everyone, on me.” the bartender looked up and around, "only for you then, my friend. no one comes out in a freezing night like this." "never mind, hooray! i'd memerize every face (which is none) here tonight 'cos you will carry me through one of the most meaningful moments in my life. it's great!" the bartender lifted his shot and bottomed up in nonchalance. his girl friend was bugging him all night. all he wanted to do is close and leave. but now that Lewsar was here, he had to finish with the birthday boy before everything. in the ensuing minutes, the birthday boy stared at the clock on the wall, with a cigarette red between his fingers. "ten, nine, eight ... three! two! one! hey! bartender! i was being born right now thirty years ago!" "no, birthday boy, you would be born sometime after this moment thirty years ago, maybe in the morning, maybe afternoon, i don't know, go ask your mom. it can hardly be exactly 0:00 at the turning of the day. so would you come back at the exact time of your birth and buy everyone a drink so that we can truely celebrate the annivesary of the debut of someone who would thirty years later have no one by his side on his birthday?" "emmm... i think you are right. i'm calling mom now to ask the exact time of the day!" Lewsar reached for his phone only to remember mom disowned him twenty years ago. "hey, bartender, what was your time of the day?" "my mother took the scalpel at 0:00 on a full moon night because i demanded it by kicking her from the inside, then she died in labor." "i'm sorry. sad birthday sad birthday." then he raised his shot in the air, "to mother! to son! to birthday! to deathday!" "you ever gonna finish your drink or what?" the bartender raised an eyebrow. "almost almost." Lewsar drained the shot and left in a flurry.