Alan goes to jail for involuntary manslaughter and you totally ruined his goodbye party. A going-to-jail goodbye party is supposed to be a wild night full of drinks, prostitutes, running around under bridges shouting retorts at the traffic noise above, maybe a gay moment depending on the mood/weather, a big dinner followed by a separate trip to one of those new out of the way bakeries for dessert, a violent confrontation with the convicted’s accomplice who made a deal with the DA, the exchange of gifts and then bedtime. But your going-away-to-jail party was at a restaurant known for their slow service for large parties, which made the prostitutes sleepy from waiting for you, the dessert place was closed, and the accomplice ended up throwing himself off the back of a ferry before he could be confronted. All you were left with was the gay moment (which was really lovely, but does not a good going-away-to-jail party make).
“I’m sorry I ruined your party,” you tell Alan while he holds you in his arms. “I wanted it to be perfect and overthought things.”
“The fact that you tried to throw me a party,” Alan says. “That you tried to celebrate me, that’s all the party I need.”
Fall asleep for as long as the bridge traffic up above allows, then take Alan for some French Toast. Don’t try to make it perfect by going to a hard-to-get-into brunch place. It’s his last French Toast on the outside with his best friend, so no matter what it tastes like, it’s going to be delicious.
Happy Alan Goes To Jail Tomorrow Day!