Right up until the moment he'd gone into the hall to find out what was keeping Monica from walking in on the surprise party he'd staged for her and found her drunk as a skunk, flailing about on Joey's doorstep and giggling helplessly as she tried to get to her feet again, Chandler had been sure he had done everything he possibly could to ensure that Monica got through her 30th birthday as painless and hassle-free as at all possible and satisfy the demands of her parents and friends for a big celebration at the same time.
In fact the whole thing had gone far more smoothly as he'd expected or even dared to hope from the moment onward when Monica had decided against their half-hearted plan to simply take the first week of April off and run away together to celebrate her birthday somewhere nobody would find them. When she'd bravely opted for staying and facing the music instead, Chandler had just as bravely and selflessly offered to take over all the arrangements himself, leaving her free to do whatever she wanted, completely uninvolved in any of the organization and preparatory work for the big day.
Now it finally dawned on him what a huge mistake that had been. Planning, organizing and preparing a big birthday party were things Monica truly excelled at and all the work it entailed would have meant that she would have been much too busy for a chance to beat herself up and get all depressed about turning thirty. So instead of giving her a break, he had taken away every chance to distract herself from the fateful date. And here was the result of it all. Monica was drunk. Wasted, hammered, plastered, rip roaring drunk...and all at least as much as the last time he'd seen her like this in London, or even worse. And unlike London she looked quite happily drunk, carefree and even exhilarated about her sudden inability to open the door, let alone get up from the floor of the hallway.
"Heyyy! You got the door open!" she giggled happily.
"Heyy are you drunk?" As if there could still be a doubt. Had he really thought she was just playacting? Pretending?
"Nooo!" she protested much too emphatically, trying to pull herself up by #19's doorknob and almost falling backwards into the kitchen when the door opened. "Okay … Whoa! Okay …"
Now there was a change. It fleetingly occurred to Chandler that if there hadn't been about 20 people waiting tensely in the darkened living-room, almost – or in Jack Geller's case, literally – bursting with impatience, Monica's inebriation would have come as a big relief to him. He'd have bundled her safely inside and spent the rest of the evening getting drunk with her until they ended up in bed together in happy oblivion. Which couldn't happen now, and he only had himself to blame. Why couldn't he have been firmer with Monica's parents and her friends? Why did her thirtieth birthday have to be such a big deal?!
At least she had managed to get to her feet now, if rather wobbly, and grab his hand, grinning with almost manic cheer.
"See I was - I was a little nervous about turning …" she actually lowered her voice conspiratorially "…'thirty'..." The fateful word had her giggling nervously again. "So the bus boys took me out for some drinks." There was a slight pause while she considered, then she declared happily: "I wanna puke on you later!"
Mindful of the silent audience behind the #20 door, Chandler manfully abstained from a scathing comment on this prospect. Unfortunately the image refused to leave his brain.
"Okay, here is the thing. We have thrown a very formal surprise party for you in there! All of your friends are in there and your parents!"
Monica's eyes widened in utter horror. "Noo!"
"Yes!" Very formal indeed. Chandler wanted to kick himself when he thought of how he'd insisted on everybody coming in formal dress because he'd thought it would be a treat for Monica, but so far had only resulted in Jack Geller exploding his ancient tux and Joey choking himself on his bow tie.
"Noo!" Monica repeated, even more horrorstruck and Chandler wished himself far away.
"Yes!"
"Oh no! My parents have never seen me drunk!" Another pause while she laboriously pondered her statement. "That they know of!"
Oh god, how could it have come to this? Once Monica would wake up with a whooping hangover, there'd be hell to pay. She would never get over the disgrace and it would all be his fault. Chandler grabbed of his head and desperately tried to think. "Okay, here's the thing. We're gonna get you some coffee and they will never know that you're drunk!"
"Really?! You promise?" The pathetic hope in her eyes had him vow to himself that he would get her through this, no matter what it cost him. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."
At this she threw her arms around his neck in exuberant gratefulness, engulfing him in a cloud of whisky fumes. "Okay. I love you so much!"
"Okay, we have to do something about your breath!"
That had her glare at him in mock indignation. "What about your breath?!"
Chandler couldn't help wincing. "That's still yours ..." From the smell of it the bus boys had really wiped up the bar with her. But no matter. "Okay, now remember it's a surprise party. So, when you go in, act surprised!"
Monica nodded happily. "Okay! I can do that." Following his lead, she proceeded to sneak up to the door very carefully and silently, even shushing herself in her effort to be as careful as possible and quite forgetting to walk forward in the process until he drew her to him as he opened the door. Then they stood side by side on the threshold while the lights went on and everybody rose up from behind the tables and sofa and chorused: "Surprise!"
For a long moment there was silence as Monica stared vacantly at them, unmoving while the pleased expressions started to give way to puzzlement and doubt. Only then, remembering belatedly that she was supposed to be surprised, Monica took a deep breath and yelled her head off.
.
As he took his fingers out of his ears again – long time habit had made him protect his ears on pure reflex – Chandler realized that the hardest part of the obstacle course was still before them. How could he ever hope to get Monica safely across the apartment and to the temporal refuge of their bedroom, past not only her friends but also her parents, and without anyone noticing anything amiss? Well, there was nothing to it but to try. One step at a time. Okay, first the kitchen. As he steered Monica along the kitchen table laden with snacks, Chandler secretly congratulated himself on his foresight to let the caterers set up camp in Joey's apartment and leave Monica's kitchen alone. Even drunk to the gills Monica would surely pounce on any stranger daring to use her sacred oven or even, god forbid, even come close to disturbing the deeply mysterious arrangement of her refrigerator magnets. Okay, first hurdle taken, but the next already loomed close, and it was a doozy. Chandler would have preferred the encounter with Monica's parents at a later stage of their trek or not at all, but it couldn't be helped. And here they were, Judy with that vague smile and Jack holding out his arms as he got up - or rather tried to get up. At the last moment, by the most incredible luck, he was firmly held in place by the unbelievable amounts of safety pins Judy had so liberally applied, and so they were able to pass by them without further ado. Now, if their luck would hold out? Okay, here was Gunther, resplendent in a purple jacket that seemed even more ancient than Jack's tux, but since he was used to being ignored there was no need to acknowledge him. The guy near the window they had to pass by next was another matter though. And of course Monica had already taken rather mistaken notice of him, beaming cheerfully at -
"Paul!"
"Phil...!" Chandler hissed desperately, wincing at Phil's hurt expression. Why, oh why had he invited the guy? But no matter, they had almost made it. Whoops, that were the steps – carefully there, mustn't have Monica fall down now… And then, much faster than he had anticipated, they had arrived at Monica's bedroom. Only four more steps, five at most!
"Okay, you're doing great. Okay look at that - look at that, we made it all the way across the room. You're doing great. You're doing fine." Chandler realized that he was almost babbling in his relief.
Monica smiled at him vaguely and kept walking, for all the world like someone on a tightrope. Make that a tightrope swaying in the wind, with gusts of rain blowing in her face. Oh god, and here was Phoebe, cheerfully exuberant in her rather daring dress just when he'd thought they were safe.
"Hey, what's going on?"
Chandler tried to get the message across as diplomatically as possible. "Monica's a little drunk."
"Yay! I love drunk Monica!" Much too loud of course, so that even Monica tried to shush her while giggling happily. At least Phoebe lowered her voice a bit.
"She is so much more fun than regular Monica!"
Chandler gently nudged Monica into the right direction again. "She doesn't want her parents to know she's drunk."
"Ohh! All right!" Phoebe nodded sagely. "All right. Here's what we'll do, I'll get twice as drunk as Monica and then no one's will even notice her."
For a moment Chandler was tempted, but too many memories of Phoebe after a drink too many gave him pause.
"Drunk Phoebe is mean."
"Okay, you watch your tone with me!" Phoebe turned away in a huff which had Chandler suspect she was already well on the way of getting sloshed, adding one more problem to his collection and his headache too which was just beginning to make itself felt. At least Monica was homing in on the bedroom door now, so he waited until she was safely inside and then joined the others, clutching his head again.
"What's-what's going on? Phil's really pissed!" Of course Rachel had witnessed that even though she'd had her back turned at the time.
"Monica's wasted." Chandler wearily summarized the situation.
"Maybe that will liven up this party." Ross commented drily and also rather unhelpful. Chandler now appealed to Rachel.
"Okay, will you just go help her change please!"
To his immense relief, Rachel headed straight for the bedroom, but not without throwing a mischievous comment over her shoulder.
"Okay, but taking care of a drunk, naked woman seems like a job for Joey …!"
"Yep." Chandler only just barred Joey's determined march towards the bedroom in the nick of time and patted his sulking friend on the shoulder.
"Why don't you get some coffee for her?" he suggested. "You might check if those crab cakes are ready too." At that Joey's eyes lit up and he happily bounced away towards the kitchen, leaving Chandler and Ross anxiously hovering near the bedroom door. Or rather Chandler, because Ross lost interest almost immediately and returned to the couch to take up his laborious flirt with an attractive woman that Chandler couldn't remember inviting.
Finally, after numerous attempts to fob off Phoebe who now seemed dead set on taking her top off for any reason, and also fending off Judy who kept asking for more safety pins and chardonnays, Monica emerged from the bedroom again, dressed in that deceptively simple black sleeveless party dress that looked so hot on her, and steered towards him, smiling vaguely as if she wasn't quite sure what was happening to her and why, and only wobbling the slightest bit on her high heels. Rachel followed close behind and together they managed to point Monica safely towards the relative safety of the Barcalounger.
"I'm telling you it's like watching Bambi learn how to walk…" Rachel declared. Chandler thought that it was a wonder she could keep upright in those heels at all, let alone walk, but wisely didn't mention it. Here was Ross gleefully pouncing on his befuddled sister.
"You're drunk! Mom and dad are gonna be maaaaadd!" When Monica only bashfully turned her head instead of retorting and Chandler looked daggers at him, Ross collected himself abruptly. "Maybe I'm a little drunk ...!"
And still smarting from that last Thanksgiving fiasco was Chandler's guess which again he kept to himself while he assisted Monica at sitting down on the Barcalounger without mishap and getting her to eat a bit of crabcake before Joey had a chance to carry them off again.
"How are you feeling?" He'd wanted to make it sound solicitous, but suspected he sounded like a total fussbudget. Monica turned to look at him as if she'd only just noticed him properly, her eyes suddenly gleaming.
"You are so handsome!" Chandler winced as he realized she had reached the horny stage of her drunkenness. "I wanna make love to you right here, right now!"
As she roughly pulled him close to kiss him, growling playfully, Chandler was sorely tempted to just kiss her back and let matters take their course, bitterly reflecting on how great this could have been, if they'd been alone right then and not in the middle of a formal party. It was so unfair.
"I really wish that you wouldn't…" Ross cut in on that hot moment rather peevishly, but even as Chandler gently disentangled himself, he had already turned back to his flirt, totally oblivious to her indulging smile. Chandler heaved a sigh of relief. So far, so good. Now, if they could just survive another half hour like that they should be out of the woods. Judy would be anxious to get Jack out of that crumbling old tux of his as soon as possible, and as soon as her parents had left, Monica's state wouldn't matter anymore. Just another half hour…
"Now all you have to do is just get through a little bit more, okay? Then we can put you in bed, okay?!" Chandler realized he had started to sweat with all the stress while Monica kept nodding and smiling vaguely at his pleas. "Just smile and don't talk to anyone!"
"Speech! Speech! Let's hear from the birthday girl! Huh?" Yep, there was no other explanation for it, Phoebe had to be at least as hammered as Monica, and as usual her timing was devilishly perfect.
"Pheebs!"
"Don't you see? Everyone's looking at me! The plan's working! I didn't even have to take off my top yet!" Not for lack of trying though. Oh god, now the others chimed in and oh dear god, Jack was raising his camera too. For a fleeting moment Chandler considered jumping through the window. Or maybe on the Gellers. Or both.
"Speech! Come on Monica!"
But no, he couldn't run. Monica was trying to get up, dangerously wobbling through the laborious process and he had to help her steady herself. Unfortunately Jack had already started the camera and now commented his efforts good-naturedly.
"Hey Chandler, you can't keep your hands off her for one second!"
"Oh, I think it's nice..." Judy gushed.
"I think it's necessary...!" Chandler replied dryly, letting Monica go as she straightened up and faced her guests, actually making an effort to put a speech together.
"I - I wanna thank you all for coming … my family and my friends …" Oookay, so far, so good. Of course Phoebe had to comment with an enthusiastic whoohoo, but that was only to be expected, and Monica continued, gaining steadiness and assurance with every word she got out without slurring. Much.
"I really like to say that I'm - um …" And then she paused, just as Chandler started to think they would get away with it. But then he realized he had forgotten that drunk Monica would not only get vague and forgetful but also reckless, in a perfect devil-may-care total abandoning-all-caution kind of way. Like now, as she let her shoulders slump and took a deep breath.
"You know what I'd really like to say? I'm drunk!" She turned to face her parents as Judy gently pushed the camera down and grinned happily at them. "That's right mom and dad! Your little Harmonica is hammered!" When the camera threatened to drop out of Jack's suddenly unmoving hands, Ross hurriedly took charge of it.
"And guess what!" Now Monica was on a roll. "I've been drunk before! And I've smoked a cigarette!" And if that hadn't been enough of a bombshell, she held her hand to her mouth as if to impart a great secret: "And I got a box of Ding-Dongs hidden in my underwear drawer!"
You had to hand it to her, she didn't do things by half. As the others enjoyed themselves Chandler made a mental note to ask her where she had gotten the cigarette from. Would she have hidden them together with the Ding-Dongs?
"But you know what, you know what? It's all okay." Magnanimously she waved any concerns. "It's okay because I turned thirty today. And, and I can do anything I want! Because I am a GROWN-UP!"
And with that crowning conclusion Monica raised her arms triumphantly, only to quite gracefully topple to the floor in the next instant, her eyes closing and a blissful smile on her face.
Chandler stood rooted to the spot, feeling as if in a dream while he watched Ross diligently filming everything and the others around his girlfriend raising their glasses and cheering. Only when Phoebe asked Joey to help her get her top off, he wrenched himself out of his paralysis and hurried over to bend over Monica who still lay on her side, unmoving, as graceful as if she had been poured on the floor.
And fast asleep, with that blissful smile still on her lips.
.
Monica remained asleep, no matter what he did to wake her. Nothing worked, no patting of the cheeks, tickling under her chin, holding a cup of coffee under her nose, pinching her toe – not even the sound of spilled cereal on the floor could get her up. In the end Chandler contented himself with laying her out on the sofa so the party could continue around her as slept. To his intense relief Jack and Judy had preferred to retire soon after Monica's memorable speech and Phoebe's attempt at a diversion. After Chandler had seen them to the door, he overheard Judy fondly recalling memories of her own 30th birthday as the two of them trundled down the stairs.
"Oh Jack, do you remember that red garter belt you gave me?"
"I think I do! But why don't you show it to me again tonight?"
"Ooooh Jack! What if it doesn't fit anymore?"
Chandler hurriedly closed the door.
.
And Monica slept peacefully on, all through the rest of the party and the last of the guests leaving, the caterers packing up and finally the half-hearted efforts of the others trying to straighten the apartment. There was a lot of grumbling since everybody was so used to Monica doing all the work. But she still simply couldn't be roused no matter what they tried, from Joey spilling ice cubes on her (though he did try to let it appear accidental), to Rachel rustling the gift wrap paper under her nose and running the vacuum all around her, and finally Ross putting his glass on the table without a coaster. Maybe Phoebe would have hit on a way to wake her up, but she had long since reached the whiny stage of her own inebriation and retreated into the kitchen to finish off the remaining drinks while she tried to write the lyrics to yet another song about her late mother.
When their friends had finally left too, Ross and Joey supporting Phoebe between them, Chandler felt utterly relieved. And weary. And oddly enough, peaceful. The worst had happened and, as it so often did, had turned out not to be so bad at all. On the contrary. Compared to his own miserable excuse of a 30th birthday party, Monica's had been a rousing success. Certainly a more memorable one.
Chandler changed out of his tux and turned back the covers on their bed, then he went to the living-room to get Monica, managing to carry her to the bedroom without bumping her head which seemed a major accomplishment considering her dead weight and his tiredness. After he had laid her down and gotten his breath back, he took her shoes off and hunted for the zipper of her dress. Once he'd gotten it down far enough, he tried to draw it off her over her legs as slowly and carefully he could. At last it was done and he put it on a hanger with a sigh of relief, deciding at the same time to leave her bra and panties alone.
Except just as he put the covers back up over her, Monica raised her arms and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him down to her for a very wet kiss, growling playfully when he fought to keep his balance and then humming happily when he settled next to her and wrapped his arms around her. She still had her eyes closed, but wouldn't let go of him and didn't stop kissing him either. And then the whisky on her breath didn't matter anymore, or rather, it even served to turn him on, so that he was soon losing himself in her embrace. She moaned when he got off her bra and sucked at her breasts while he wiggled out of his t-shirt at the same time and when, kneeling over her, he tugged off her panties she squealed delightedly, kicking her legs and spreading her arms wide.
"I'm thirty!" she yelled at the top of her voice. "I can do anything I want! Yooohooo!"
"Yeah, you are!" Chandler agreed as he lowered himself on her, groaning as she took him in without further ado and held him so tight his breath nearly gave out. "And I'm soo proud of you!"
At that her eyes finally opened. "Really?"
"Yes!" he confirmed, following it up with a long slow thrust. "Sooo much. You made it!"
Monica laughed in delight and kissed him again. Only when her head turned aside on the pillow he realized that she had fallen asleep again.
.
.
The next morning found all six of them assembled in their kitchen once more. Ross had arrived first, laden with everything he could think of Monica might need for her hangover, and his face when he found out that instead of tearily remorseful and cranky she was quite her usual cool and collected self, was just priceless. And when Phoebe snatched the ice pack instead and retreated to the sofa, he couldn't stop scowling.
"Well, as 30th birthdays go, this was certainly – memorable…" he grumbled balefully. "I don't think anyone's thrown such an expensive party only to sleep through most of it."
Monica huffed. "At least I had a party. You bought an MG roadster instead."
"Which I returned!"
"Yeah, but you still had no party!"
"At least this way I didn't get drunk in front of Mom and Dad!"
"So? At least I faced up to it and didn't blame it on someone else!"
"Guys! Guys!" Joey intervened before the Geller siblings were at each other's throats again. "There's no need to fight! We're all in the same boat now!"
"What? No, we're not!"
But Joey insisted. "Yes, we are! We're all thirty now!"
There was a sudden pause as they all let that sink in, but then Rachel cleared her throat.
"Um, actually, I'm not thirty yet," she remarked. Joey looked confused.
"You're not thirty yet? Why?"
Rachel was taken aback. "What do you mean, why? I'm twenty-nine!"
"But … But you were in the same class as Monica at school. And your birthday's before her." Suddenly his eyes widened and he pointed an accusing finger at her. "Huuh! You cheated! You got thirty already!"
"WHAT? NO!"
Joey was quite taken aback by Rachel's fiery denial. "Then how come Monica's thirty now and you're still twenty-nine?"
As one they all turned towards Monica whose eyes had suddenly widened in dismay.
"What happened?" Phoebe asked as she rejoined them at the table, drawn by the unexpected revelation and still toting the ice pack.
"What do you mean, what happened?" Monica tried to fend them off. "Nothing! Nothing happened ... I – I got schooled when I was seven years old, that's all."
"Huh!" Ross sneered, smirking broadly when she glared at him.
Chandler couldn't resist. "Did your parents forget your birthday?"
When she winced he wanted to kick himself. "Well … kinda."
"No they didn't!" Ross interrupted. "They didn't send her to school at six because she couldn't – ow! OW! Monica!"
Monica stood over him, the ladle she'd thumped him with raised threateningly over his head. "Ross – ONE word. If you say one word about it, I'll –"
"What?"
"I'll tell them about your first day at school." Monica had regained her calm and put the ladle back on the kitchen counter while Ross stared at her in sudden dismay.
"Tell them what?" Joey whined and Phoebe joined in.
"Yeah, tell us! What was so bad about it?"
"Was that when you peed your pants or when you ate the chalk?" Chandler asked casually and Ross' eyes bulged as he glared at each of them in turn. Then he took a huge breath.
"MONICA COULDN'T COUNT TO TEN!"
There was an awful pause as everyone sucked in their breath. Then Phoebe frowned.
"So? I couldn't tie my shoes when I was six. But I still had to go to school."
"Yeah. What's so bad about it?" Rachel put her arm around Monica who looked at her gratefully.
Joey only seemed confused and Ross looked crestfallen.
"There was more ..." he mumbled, but shut up hurriedly as Monica glared at him again.
"Yeah? What else?" Joey finally asked. "Because to be honest, not being able to count to ten - that's not such a big deal. When I was six I could only count in Italian."
"Oh?" Phoebe looked intrigued. "Can you still do it?"
"Of course! One-oh, two-oh, three-oh …"
Monica sat down again. "Alright. My parents thought I wasn't – ready for school yet, so they kept me home for another year. I guess I was too shy."
Ross snorted at that but somehow managed to keep quiet.
"Anyway," she went on "if I had started school at six, Rachel and I would never have met, and we wouldn't all be together now like this today." She paused. "So I guess I have to thank my parents for that after all."
"Hear, hear!" Chandler raised his cup. "It's a bit late, but I would like to make a toast. Here's to the birthday girl! And her parents who forgot her birthday long before she will even want to do so." He looked around the table. "And to her brother who took such good care the video of Monica's sleep attack was never taken." Ross suddenly looked sheepish. "To Phoebe who selflessly took it upon herself to create a diversion –" Phoebe laughed and then winced as her headache made itself felt again – "to Rachel who taught Monica how to walk again" – Rachel looked quite smug at that – "and last but not least to Joey who – " here Chandler paused a little until he had Joey's undivided attention "who bravely and selflessly refused to howl 'WHY GOD WHY' at Monica's birthday party."
Joey's mouth slowly dropped open. "Oh my god! That's right! I didn't do that!" Grinning broadly he turned to Monica. "Do you still want me to?!"