Frank Sinatra said it best: New Years is for amateurs.
But for some reason every December 31st like most I join them. Envisioning a night of perfection that almost always ends up as a disaster.
After being told many times to not truck it to New York because it was below zero, its crowded and if I hate time square in the summer it will make me cry on New Years. Guess what I did? Yep took a bite out of the big apple.
I'm going to stop being such a Debbie. All in all it was a fun night... despite the fact that I was New Years kissless but eh c'est la vie.
My friend and I started off drinking champagne in the train... because we're classy.
Once in New York we went to dinner at a delicious Tapas bar - when I told my mom this she misheard me and exclaimed "What?! You went to a TOPLESS Bar?" To which I respond, "Yes mom, we went to the topless bar and I fell in love with the regular. He's really sweet. He told me with a rack like mine I should be on stage. I think he's a keeper."
So after I got my bra stuffed with dollar dollar bills y'all my friend and I headed to meat packing. A cherry slammer later I was swatting the light saber on my iphone. It was at this point that my friend informed me I was drunk. She probably was right.
Then we sneaked in to a club. This took me back. Apparently you had to pay $50 for a wrist band at this club. After being denied, my friend and I wrapped plastic lays around our wrists and snuck behind guys with bands. And success!
After hearing the new Katy Perry song about ten times (ten more times than I can bare) and getting a little fed up dancing with no personality metro sexuals/ euro trash it was time to leave.
But guess what happens at New York on New Years at 2am? All the cabs are off duty. Because obviously when people want to go home or elsewhere is the best time to not pick up costumers. You will find random town cars bargaining you a ride anywhere for $40 but that option seemed at little seedy.
So we stumbled into the only bar open. A gay bar. Just my luck. But at this point we decided food sounded a lot better than flirtinis and this place had no food. We were advised to go to this placed called the corner bistro up the block.
I walked in and I was in love. A dive bar serving up burgers and draft beer by a bartender who kind of looked like santa. And to top it off Bob Dylan was playing on the juke box.. I couldn't have asked for a better place.
After eating what might have been the best bacon cheeseburger in my life. My friend passed out on the bar (she was tied) I asked her if she wanted to go home and she said shed prefer to sleep on the bar for a little. So I let her as I finished my beer and chatted up some Irish men behind me who were really nice until they tried to convince me to take my passed out friend with me back to their place in Queens. Oh yeah strange men that sounds like a great idea!.....NOT!
Finally my friend woke and was ready to go home yey! But the last train was leaving soon so we had to book it. I dragged her out of the bar calling some trendy looking kids "Hipsters" on the way out for reasons I am unsure of. Finally found a cab. Got to grand central. And for the first time all night. I fell in my heels onto my hands cutting my thumb. So I was like fuck it. And took off my heels running to the track in my tights. A Police officer told me I might want to consider putting on heels to which I responded "have you tried walking in these all night?!"
Finally on the train. Seated next to the funniest pair. Both red from tanning and covered in glitter, they came from Webster hall... figures. Then I almost got into a fight with this guy on the train for wearing true religion jeans.... Still not sure why. I like to pick fights over fashion when I'm drunk. And that was my night.
So this is Oh Nine. Going to be a big year. I'm happy I rang it in with class: champagne on the train, a topless bar, sneaking into a club and picking fights with strangers over their fashion sense. Real classy.
Happy New Year to all and to all a good night.