Do Barbies Celebrate Birthdays?

Almost 25 years ago, I celebrated my Barbie's birthday. My mom used to tell me stories of how as a child, she used to play "wedding" with her dolls. With her friends, she'd celebrate her doll's wedding, they'd sing songs, dress up, and then the girl with the male doll ( Ken equivalent ) would take away the female doll - for good. That story always broke me heart ( it kind of does now too ) and so when asked if I wanted to do a "wedding" for my Barbie, I declined the offer. Instead I thought it'd be a good idea to have a birthday party instead. So on February 19th 1987, I had my Barbie's birthday party to which I invited my frield Rolla. Rolla, not only brought gifts for my Barbie, but also brought along her Barbies. My mom baked a cake, my dad carefully iced the cake and my grandfather sat watching so eagerly at what was going to take place.
25 years later, I asked my daughter if she wanted to have a little birthday part for a doll of hers. It's a baby doll and she loves it very much. So remembering my special event I thought she'd be interested too. But just as I was turned off at the idea of having a wedding party for my Barbie, my daughter stared back at me with the most confused look and said "Mama, dolls don't have birthdays" and carried on doing what she was doing.

My Trip to the Brothel

On Wednesdays I work closer to the city so after work I drive about 5 minutes further west from where I work. After finding street parking with great difficulty, I make my way up a steep flight of stairs dodging red-faced customers making their way down. As I enter the foyer, at the reception there sits an overweight owner, giving out numbers to customers. Behind the owner in an "L" shape sitting room where about a dozen girls - dressed in white lab coats - sit waiting to be called. He calls them by their names and they come strutting towards their client and lead them into a private room, about the size of a stall -and the door shuts.

Yeah, sorry to break the soundtrack, but I only go to get my threading done at a well known esthetics "joint" in Montreal. I am going to keep the name anonymous as I definetly plan on returning there! Well, this place is family owned and they have about three locations. At one location the lady owner sits with her younger son - about 22 years old who always seems so awkward being there. At the second location sits the "dad" who probably buys 3 or 4 XXL sized clothes. He is huge and always seems to be in sweats and honestly in the past five years I have never seen him stand. When he asks me "what are you here for?" I always just say "eyebrows". At their final location sits their older son, who once told me I hadn't taken off my sticker from my new jacket. As I looked down I saw a 10 inch vertical sticker on my jacket with "L" and "Gap" written all the way down. sigh.

All the girls who work at these locations seem so terrified of the owners. One even told me that "we are not allowed to have conversations with our customers" when I tried to chat it up with her. I mean what do you as someone is just going at it on your face, being that close you feel like just talking about something.

There is different music there all the time. if you go before noon, there is Sikh religious music.







Go any other time during the day, you'll hear famous Bollywood tracks playing. Go during any festive season - Eid, Diwali, Holi, Lodhi etc. - you hear tradtional tracks.



So as these girls are like inches away from your face, making sure they leave no scars, they are singing along to their favourite tracks. (But they are not allowed to make conversation)

Some will even talk to you while they are "doing business" but as soon as they are done, and you are getting your bag and jacket together, they walk out so quick and so quiet almost making you feel like you insulted them.

Customers pay at he reception. By the time you arrive at the reception, the owner already knows how much you owe. And then comes the point which inspired me to write this today. You turn around to give some change as tip to the girl. First it takes you forever to recognize the girl from the dozen sitting there. Once you do, she takes the tip from you with complete innocence and (almost) timidness and occasionally they just open their pocket of their lab coats a bit wider and ask you to just drop it in their pocket!

And then I make my way down every Wednesday. Watching the hurried customer pass by me on their way up as I hurry back my car with my red face.