That evening, Mr. Bean put on a clean shirt. He put on his best coat and trousers. He put on his best shoes. Then he drove to a restaurant in the centre of town.
He arrived at eight o'clock and went inside. It was a very nice restaurant. Everybody was wearing their best clothes, and there were flowers on every table.
'I'm going to like it here, ' thought Mr. Bean. 'This is a good restaurant for my birthday dinner. '
The manager met him at the door.
'Good evening, sir, ' he said. 'How are you? Would you like a table for one?'
'Yes, please, ' said Mr. Bean.
'Follow me, sir, ' said the manager.
He walked across the room to a table, and Mr. Bean went after him.
'Here you are, sir, ' said the manager. 'This is a nice table. '
He pulled the chair away from the table. Then he waited for Mr. Bean to sit down. Mr. Bean looked at him.
'Why is he taking my chair away?' thought Mr. Bean. 'What's he doing?'
And he pulled the chair away from the manager and sat down quickly.
When the manager went away, Mr. Bean sat quietly for a minute. Then he remembered something. He took a birthday card and an envelope