Merry New Year!

"In this country, we say HAPPY new year." I think I just overcame the sweating and shaking of the New Years binge. Co and I had a hell of a time on New Years Day in Circuit City, with a full array of sweats, clammy hands, dizzy spells, and awkward handshakes with Ralph the Uninformed Salesman With A Large Dent in the Palm of His Hand. I will say that the preceding evening was well worth the hangover, and even the depression that followed the uncontrollable laughs.

New Years plans were not decided until around 6pm Friday, at which point we were deciding between a booze cruise, a friend's open-bar flat rate party, and Bulls Head, which shockingly had no cover. My buddy BJ was in town with his new girlfriend so they were coming out with myself and Leary- a real dynamite crew of four. Our pre-boozin was spent strategizing the midnight makeout and how to time it so the female is not scared away after too much time conversing about online diaries. I was impressed with BJ's girl Shannon who scouted out the potential beasts for our conquest. At about 11:45 I made the move in to "buy" shots from the open bar for the group of six girls that was at the bar. Luckily they were from upstate NY, so not only did I have conversation fodder, but they were also thankful and impressed by the shots. The circle of friends that became of the shots turned into me conversing with the one with the Gary Sheffield-like mustache who, in fairness, did have a reasonable body. Not sure whether she would be into it or not, I wisely managed to continune conversation with the husky girl who was interested in any form of conversation. Complimenting her shirt was all for insurance purposes in case Rollie Fingers was not into my shit. Thankfully she was, and the midnight maul was on. The taste of female flesh is so good, once it hits your lips, particularly after a prolonged dry spell spent at home. My confidence boosted, I motioned for the 7 bartender for a kiss and after an inital outright denial, I was granted a kiss on the cheek, for which I tipped her $10. This, however, continued the free open bar for me a bit longer than everyone else and I will be going back to this bar regularly.

Co and I stumbled into a cab around 3 where I called an old ex girlfriend who lives in NYC (voice mail, no surprise). Parting ways with Co for no apparent reason around 23rd street, I dragged myself into the Monk for a beer where I blathered to some Irish girl for 2 minutes, spit a few times, and then walked directly back out of the bar, and found my way home somehow, someway. Shortly after I got home Co called and while not funny to anyone besides myself, the following conversation took place:

Jimmy: "Where are you?"
Slurred Co: "I'm in the Monk."

Good night 2004, I hated that year.