So, another year has come and gone. Not a great year, not a terrible year. It was the first year I spent New Year's Eve as a single man in a very long time. It's a very bizarre feeling, when the clock strikes midnight, the cheers go up, and there's no one to kiss. Or, should I say, no one I wanted to kiss; there were plenty of women at the Grand Canal but I was just there to have a good time and bask in the glow of my friends. I actually wasn't as let down at midnight as I thought I would be; the night went so well that the New Year's kiss was almost an afterthought. I was supposed to head down to the Cape, where I would have been guaranteed a New Year's kiss. The weather decided to kick me in the ass and make that trip impossible at 6pm. No big deal...it would have been a miserable trip and I wouldn't have gotten there until well past 9pm.
There are several things I've learned about myself and the world in the short time since work ended last night:
1) As down as I might be sometimes during special events when I realize that I really am single, I think about why I'm newly-single and it brightens my spirits.
2) Women will wear the skimpiest clothing possible on New Year's Eve no matter what the temperature is outside. It must've been way below freezing with the wind last night and there were women EVERYWHERE clad in nothing but a short-as-hell cocktail dress, nylons, and heels. Which instantly makes New Year's Eve my favorite holiday. Ever.
3) I truly am a sucker for a woman in a skirt, nylons, and heels. Every time. I ended up talking to two different women for about 15 minutes each who were clearly morons, but I continued to talk to them because they looked like Barbie dolls. Unfortunately, the women who go out to bars on NYE are either taken or part of a "mother hen" group; I wasn't with anyone I wanted to subject to chatting with the mother hen for me. Which knocks NYE down a couple of pegs to just below my birthday (yes, it's a holiday), Memorial Day, and MathiSlam.
I also ended up helping a girl who had slipped in the snow but was literally too drunk to get herself upright again. She almost pulled me down with her twice. Why did I help her? You guessed it: skirt, nylons, heels. Done and done. Her request to give me her number was refused, however, based on the fact that she took three steps after I helped her up and puked.
4) A person walking through Boston at 2am has a better chance of finding, subduing, and collecting the reward for catching Whitey Bulger than getting a cab. I ended up walking for the Grand Canal to my car...at the Hancock Tower in Back Bay. It took me nearly an hour and I'm pretty sure one of my ears may have fallen off. I don't remember reattaching it but perhaps my brain had been numbed as well.
5) There may be something to this new-fangled idea of NOT getting completely hammered in order to have a good time. I only had a couple of drinks and I had a blast. The fact that Bearfight rocks my cock probably had something to do with that.
So, you've probably gotten this far and have decided that this was a waste of your time. Why did you read all of this boring BS about me? Well, if you read carefully then you've figured out the way to get me to do whatever you want. Women, just put on the trifecta of hotness before you ask anything of me. Men...provide me with women who wear the trifecta of hotness before you ask anything of me.
But in all seriousness, I hope 2009 is a better year for you and me. Here's hoping. Cheers.