Hello dear reader(s)!
I think I am getting old. Today, an opportunity presented itself for me to go out on New Year’s Eve. With another person. A real person. One who isn’t family. I politely declined.
Don’t get me wrong, when it hits midnight and the ball drops on the 3 hour broadcast delay for the West Coast (the best coast), I would be happy to have someone there helping me ring in the New Year, but to actually go out? In traffic? Or try to find a cab? Or pay the $17 million for an Uber because it would be peak hours only for the Uber to get stuck in the same traffic I would have? Or to possibly be hit and killed by one of the way too many drunk people on the roads when they should be passed out on bathroom tile praying to the porcelain god? Or to be crammed around way too many of those drunk people fending off kisses from the lonely and desperate? Yeah. No thanks.
It isn’t that I don’t like being out with people sometimes. It isn’t like I don’t ever drink. It isn’t even like getting stuck in a little traffic is going to be worst thing in the world. The issue, is all of those things happen in one 10 minute stretch when the bars close. That, and you hit the traffic leftover from the fireworks being launched from the major national landmark in your area.
So with those things in mind, I present the top 10 reasons not to go out on New Year’s Eve.
- Hotels are outrageously priced or sold-out. I know, because I checked. Being able to walk right to the hotel from the event would have made me reconsider. But they are about $500 for a room you could normally get for $150 if done two weeks prior on a non-holiday through Expedia. This is after drinking champagne that will run you the same price per glass it normally would per bottle.
- You are expected to make out with somebody. Now, making out is not always a bad thing. But what if you and your New Year’s date don’t hit it off? There is almost an obligatory weight that would be over the whole night about kissing at midnight. And if you are both mature enough to decide together that you don’t want to, some desperate person will almost certainly step into try. And the last place I want to ring in the New Year is behind bars for punching out some drunk and desperate woman looking for a little lip-action.
- Prices. Prices out on New Year’s Eve are gouged more than gasoline after a skirmish in the middle east. They are raised higher than my name from my followers after their ritual sacrifice and blood-oath to me. They are spiked more than that drink that poor girl is about to consume because that douche is a rapist.
- Cold. Unless you are in parts of the South or East, you know it is freaking December into January. That means it is cold. Why would you want to celebrate hypothermia, frostbite, or at the very least…painfully hard nipples? Although celebrating the nipple can be fun.
- Countdowns. Should’t be that hard. Large crowd of people, starting from 10. See how often they go wrong. Observe and listen to the 15 different shouts of “1” and “Happy New Year!”
- You can’t take your bed with you. You people are lucky I will even be awake for it. Now you expect me to be upright and wearing actual clothes?
- Drunk drivers. Now, I live in a ground floor apartment off of a fairly major street, so I am not completely protected, but the walls should give me the precious seconds I need to get to safety should some drunken idiot be too absorbed in singing Auld Lang Syne or something sort of resembling it to realize that no, in fact, that is not the road.
- Paper noisemakers and hats. Those were fun when I was 7. I also liked the circus then too. And Knight Rider.
- Idiots. I was an idiot once. So I am not judging. But there is only so much partying that people should ever do. I don’t want to see your naked ass, random person. Yes, that is vomit on your shoe, and no, I will not help you get it off. No, you should not point the champagne bottle at your friend’s eye when you pop it, and by the way, half of that champagne is now on the floor, asshole.
- Snacks. Something about New Year’s Eve makes me want to have snack food and a drink or two. I can not shovel snacks into my face in public. Especially not on any type of date. I don’t want to have to pay attention to how I eat. I want to sit in my lounge pants, wrapped up in a Snuggy, eat my snacks, drink my cheap champagne, and watch only the last few minutes of the New York Countdown on tape-delay with my cats by my side. In fact, this reason alone keeps me from forgetting about all other things on the list.
What about you dear reader(s)? Staying in, or going out?
Featured Image By Dan Bennett from Seattle, USA (DSC_2046 Uploaded by X-Weinzar) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons