The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy has this to say on the subject of birthdays:

Birthdays are a sham. Which mindlessly stupid being thought that just another being's existence was a legitimate reason to give them a present? Unless something is wanted from said being (money, food, alcohol, sex) then giving them a present is a pointless notion.

Arthur closed the guide with a sigh. He had a feeling that entry had been written by Ford Prefect, because those were the very excuses that he had made at every one of Arthur's birthdays back home.

The Guide also told him that on Earth (if it had still existed) it would be the 25th of May. His birthday. He wouldn't be getting a present from anyone this year. Everyone he had ever known was either dead or too self-obsessed to buy him anything. Arthur felt a wave of sadness, homesickness and anger as he clutched his Ghyyn ah Tahnix.

It wasn't that he wanted a present from Ford. All he really expected of his alien friend on any special occasion was to get drunk and, eventually, pass out. But, without Ford, he was alone in the universe. If he knew when Ford's birthday was, (or even if he had one) he would rush out to the nearest Marks and Spencers (if there still was one) and buy him the best towel there. But he didn't. So all Arthur could do was slip deeper into a Marvin-like state of depression.

"Hey Arthur, drink up!" Ford pushed yet another glass towards his pyjama-clad friend.

Arthur pointedly ignored the glass…actually it was more of a mug. It was also steaming.

Probably some strange cocktail that will make my kidneys explode. Arthur thought. (Ford never had to worry about this, as he had no kidneys to begin with).

Ignoring the drink had become much harder. It gave off a strange aroma, almost earthy. Arthur looked closer at the mug. The liquid inside was a rich brown colour and seemed utterly plain and boring compared with the bar's other, more luminous drinks. Arthur knew that this drink wouldn't make his kidneys explode, but it was already making his stomach leap and his intestines go all knotty.

"Ford is this…?" Arthur could barely speak.

"Happy birthday Arthur." Ford grinned his much too wide smile.

"Ford, I can't believe you actuall-"

"Just bloody drink the tea, Arthur! Then we can get properly drunk!" Ford whined.

Arthur took one tentative sip. The Universe had managed to disappoint him many times, he was unwilling to let it do so again.

"Is it good? Because it was zarking hard to find, let me tell you…" Ford started to rant. But Arthur wasn't listening. Because, on this alien planet, in this alien bar, sat with his alien friend: he was home.

Dne Eht

(Like The End only backwards through a conical bath with sand pouring through it)