The thing about celebrating the New Year the right way is that you have to pace yourself. People who are out at 6:00 in the evening, quite obviously having already had supper and started drinking are never going to make it for the duration.
We met Richard about 4:30 in the evening and went for hot chocolate in Chelsea Market.
Chelsea Market is in the old Nabisco Baking Company factory. It’s where Food TV is created (although you can’t see that part), and has all kinds of food-ish stores on the first level.
Including an amazing chocolate place that makes the best hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.
It ought to be, when you see that little Dixie Cup like comes out of a bathroom dispenser and realize you just paid over $2.00 for that.
It’s worth every penny. It’s so rich you couldn’t drink any more than that, even if you wanted to. It’s also so hot when you get it that you can blister your hands through the cup if you’re not careful. Never mind what it does to the roof of your mouth.
The problem was that by the time we got there it was just at 5:30 and they were closing. We got through the door just in time for the clerks in the store to pop their bottle of celebratory champagne, but when they had no interest in revving up the hot chocolate machine again.
Starbucks saved the day. We were just killing time anyhow, so it didn’t really matter. After we’d drunk our coffee we went back to Richard’s apartment to watch television for a while since our dinner reservation wasn’t until 8:30.
A little nap on the floor wouldn’t hurt, since experience told us it was going to be a long night.
We met friends for dinner and went to the Viceroy, which is a step above a diner, but not a big step.Most restaurants in big cities do a prix fix set menu for New Year’s Eve. It’s about the only way they can keep up with the demand and still let their own staff close up and go home. Our dinner included soup or a salad, an entrée, desert and a glass of champagne.
After dinner, we went back to another in our group’s apartment to watch television for a while – it was still only 10:30, so we watched Bette Midler’s special then watched the ball drop in Times Square.
Yup – we weren’t there. We were watching it on television like the rest of the world.
Why, you might ask? Other than standing in a big honkin’ crowd of strangers, there’s not a reason in the world I can see to be there. Once you’re in, you can’t leave. If you want a spot you have to get there about 4 in the afternoon.
You can’t take a backpack, so that means no food. No alcohol is allowed (a sensible precaution in my opinion), but most importantly, NO BATHROOMS.
This is a celebration? Standing in the same place without eating or drinking or going to the bathroom for 7+ hours?
This is more like Disney World on the 4th of July. No thanks.
Watch it from the comfort of someone’s living room, then go out and watch the other people. That’s the entertaining part of the evening.
After dinner we went to a couple of clubs, had one more drink and dragged in far beyond our bedtime but not so late (or having indulged so much) that we’d feel miserable in the morning.
On the way home, a VERY drunk young Irish kid stumbled out of a bar and decided that he’d join our threesome as we walked along. It was kind of funny, because he decided we were having a good time and he wanted to join us.
We let him walk along behind us for a bit, then kind of headed off in our own direction and discouraged him following. Drunks can be like stray puppies. If you let ‘em follow you and you feed ‘em, they hang around and won’t go away. It’s better to swat them on the nose with a rolled up newspaper so they’ll go away.
1 comment:
Why, Eddie, I had no idea you had such massive balls!
I have that exact same picture of me and Mark.
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