Space is limited in New York City, and when it’s limited, it means that it’s expensive. And so when it was my cousin’s son’s 7th birthday party today, it meant only a two-hour block of time at a children’s bounce castle play house — exactly 2:55 to 4:55, no more, no less. I genuinely thought it was a typo on the e-vite my cousin sent out. But let’s note that “two hours” really meant one hour in the bouncy house and one hour in a windowless, gymnasium/cafeteria style room with brightly painted walls that screamed of a terrible middle or high school life once again.

And because we got there late since we decided to get banh mi from Sunset Park in Brooklyn, we missed the kids’ play time in the bouncy castle and got stuck only experiencing the miserable room where there was no natural light, and kids and adults alike ate cheese and pepperoni pizza, drank soda and water, and ate generic ice cream cake.

I came for my cousin’s son, who barely took any notice of me and didn’t really seem to like any of his “friends” who were invited, either, other than two young girls. At least I didn’t have to watch him open gifts; that is always the worst part to me.