Volume I - Episode 79 Where: Melbourne, Australia When: 1 year, 1 month and 1 day before E-Day, 9:51 pm It all started the Tuesday before my 39th birthday. My back cracked loudly as I stood up from the couch to fetch us both some water. "Ouch! It sucks to get old. I can't believe I'm turning 39 on Sunday." "What?" Jessica exclaimed. "Is it your birthday this weekend?!" "Yeah." "Oh my God, Mikey!" she said. "Why didn't you tell me?" "I was worried you'd spend all your money buying me some fabulous and extravagant gift." She laughed. "So what are you doing for your birthday?" This is a question I always dreaded being asked. I don't have a huge number of friends, and while I enjoy my birthdays, I don't enjoy forcing people to spend them with me. I know, I know, that's a crazy way to think. But it's just the way my brain works. What I usually do when faced with the "what are you doing for your birthday?" question is...well...I lie. "I'm going to hang out with a couple of friends," I lied. Jessica just stared at me for a few seconds. Then she made a "hmm" sound, and said: "Wow, Mikey. I can't believe you just lied right to my face." Secretly, of course, I would have liked nothing better than to spend my birthday with her. But I couldn't bring myself to ask. I didn't want her to feel like coerced into it. Or worse, I didn't want to ask her, and have her feel guilty about having to say no. But as it turns out, she was keen - more than keen - to spend my birthday with me. In fact, she insisted on it. I tried to convince her there was no need for her to give up her Sunday night party session just for me, but that argument was shut down with a very firm "Shut up, Mikey. You're spending your birthday with me whether you like it or not. And I'm giving you a massage for your tired old man's back. No excuses!" How could I argue with that? Sunday arrived and Jessica knocked on my door at 8pm sharp. I opened the door and found her standing there, chocolate cake in hand, wearing the shortest black dress I think I've ever seen in my life. She looked amazing. "Wow," I said. "You look amazing." "Aww, thanks Mikey," she said, giving me a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday. Now get your clothes off and get onto your bed." I say it again: how could I argue with that? Ten minutes later I was lying face-down on my bed, wearing only my boxers, with Jessica squatting comfortably on my rear end. The massage was heavenly, absolutely heavenly. I swear to this day that girl had magic hands. I'd paid for a few massages in my time, but nothing like this. She instinctively seemed to know exactly where I was sore, and exactly how much pressure to apply. Yet another string in this amazing girl's bow. It's funny how much you open up during a massage. You are lying there, completely vulnerable, yet somehow you form a spiritual connection with the masseuse through the soft, sensual touching. I found myself telling her things I had never told anybody before. About how I hadn't slept with anybody in 13 years, and that I occasionally went to strip clubs for company. And she opened up, too. She told me all about her problems staying focused at uni, her ever-increasing drug use, and, most tellingly of all, her problems with her boyfriend. It seems not all was rosy in the Jessica-Shane relationship department anymore. He was loving and caring and obviously deeply in love with her...and that was pretty much the problem. She was, frankly, bored with him. He was hinting at marriage and white picket fences, and all she wanted to have adventures and meet exciting, dangerous people. She was rebelling. Against what, I never found out. But she was rebelling hard. "Anyway," she said, changing the subject. "Enough about all that. I feel like I should do something for your birthday. But what can I do that won't get me into trouble with Shane?" [CONTINUED IN FIRST COMMENT BELOW]