Birthdays were the worst, especially now. When one hit the age of 20, every birthday blended together and became.. just another day. Birthdays with his parents were great. Cake, gifts, kisses and affection. Birthdays with Bruce were.. not as good.. similar things, but the vibe was different. Birthdays now that he moved out, well, they sucked. He was arguing with Bruce over something that happened when he visited Gotham, and Alfred called asking for him to come and make amends, but Richard didn't want to spend his birthday arguing.

He figured, maybe Damian would want to go out to the museum with him or something, but when he called, he recieved a weak "Happy birthday" and apology since he was in Metropolis with Jon. No big. Jason? In China dealing with his big bad importer guy who was hiding from the authorities by fleeing the country. Tim? Away at college. Duke and Cass didn't even pick up. Of course, Babs was a noooo way, they were freshly broken up, so he didn't want to text her point blank.

This birthday, his twenty-seventh one, was shit.

Richard decided that maybe dinner would help him out. Sure, he had to watch happy family's enjoy their time together, happy couples smile at eachother like they were the only thing in the universe, (how he missed that) and yeah the wait staff got annoying when they were forced into repeatedly singing the birthday song for different tables, but he liked people watching, and it was better than crying at home.

The acrobat sighed as the waiter approached with that I need your money kind of customer service smile. He quite hated it, but he figured the man was only doing his job to earn tips. He damned Tipping Culture while he was already hating on stuff today.

"I'll do the.. beef rigatoni with your.. spicy house vodka sauce." He said plainly before glancing at the appetizers. "And.. an extra flatbread."

The waiter scribbled quickly before asking what he wanted to drink.

Richard flipped the menu a few pages then scanned the drinks menu. While he kind of wanted a strawberry lemonade, his eyes drifted to the alcohol. "Mm... I'll do a Mai Tai, why the hell not." He let out a dry scoff before shutting the menu and offering it to the waiter, when he stopped, hand freezing as he stared at the man.

"..excuse me?" He blinked, surprised when the man smiled and outstretched a palm. "You... you want my ID?" Richard seemed to glow. He was used to showing his ID to enter clubs or to buy alcohol at less sketchy places, or at the grocery store, but this was different..

It felt nice to be nearing thirty and be asked for an ID, on his birthday no less?

Richard didn't remember fumbling through his pocket for his wallet, slipping the plastic card out and passing it over. He didn't even realize he was smiling like the day he recieved his ID until the waiter smiled back at him.

He stared at the little tag on the man's apron. {{user}}, he smiled, looking at that handsome face.

Okay, maybe he would leave a good tip with a good reason.

"It's my birthday." He said like he was explaining himself to a bouncer on his twenty-first birthday, eager for his first ever drinks and buzzing for independence after finally reaching a more adult age, as if he were eighteen and telling people that yeah, he's eighteen now.