It was the last day of the year; the wind was wild, angry, and biting with cold. I had spent several hours running errands with a friend in preparation of the evenings festivities. There was a dull haze in everyone that we encountered that day, and I was beginning to become concerned that this New Years celebration might not shine like past events. Perhaps “W’s” war on common sense has taken its final toll on the American populous. While I am no fan of the New Years (and growing more weary of it with each passing year), it is a good excuse to watch people get drunk and potentially dismember themselves with large amounts of explosives, I’d be a fool not to look forward to it in some perverse way.
My house-guest had waited as long as possible to get ready and was delousing himself when the taxi service arrived. The cab driver looked like a poor man’s John Getz. He quickly informed us that he was the greatest cab driver to ever live. This was line was delivered with as deadly serious a tone as I have ever heard. I immediately wanted to throw him out of the driver’s seat and run him over with his “sparkling clean” 12 year old cab. At one point the driver insisted that someone behind us was driving with their high beams on and pulled over and waited for this person to pass. I didn’t notice high beams, but I did notice the driver reaching for something under the seat. The faster we got the out of this animal’s cab, the better. He half-bragged about sports players doing illegal things in the back of his cabs and how he was a such a good driver he would never say anything. Its hard to drive and pat yourself on the back, but this man was adept at both. I was glad when the drive finally ended.
When we walked into the hall, I noticed I was surrounded by the remaining members of “The Greatest Generation”. The mocking grin of the grim reaper met my gaze while waiting to move these poor old bastards along the River Styx. My thoughts were interrupted when the Mongolian appeared from the back area. He had arrived with his entourage a few minutes earlier and already drinking. If you may remember from our previous adventures, inebriation and Mongolians always make for an interesting evening, I was apprehensive to see what would happen.
While there were a few groups of people born after 1970, by 9 PM it became apparent that this evening would be dominated by the walking dead. I meet their confused gazes with grins and glass raising, they soon learned to ignore me except for one woman. While socializing at the bar, an elderly woman struck up conversation which quickly devolved into her wanting to take me home. I couldn’t blame her, but I flashed my wedding ban (which I discovered was useful for something) and quickly left with my drinks. As I moved around the hall noticing the elderly guests getting drunker and their mobility becoming more impaired, I felt the need to remove myself from the stink of death.
Many of the key players from the Maryland storywere seated with their wives or dates at the next table. One man had a date that my house guest was familiar with and as the night went on they were spending more time together and her date was spending more time at the bar with me. I started asking some light questions to ensure there wouldn’t be a fist fight between the two; there wouldn’t – he could have cared less. But he was more concerned with another member of the group popping the question and creating a scene. In the bathroom a man who looked like a cross between a conventional porn star and used car salesmen stared into the mirror saying “you can do it, you can do it”. This happened several times that night, the guy spent more time in the bathroom than in the ballroom. As for the object of his affections, I overheard her saying marriage is over-rated as she just ended her second.
I had made an unlikely friend at the hall the week before. His name was Tony and he was the owner of the establishment. Tony is an older man with brown shoe-polish died hair. Tony is old school Italian with a bum leg which he informed me was received for not keeping his cool. He took a liking to me and the Mongolian (mistaking him for a southern Italian, and me correcting that he was from eastern Italy) when we purchased seats the week before. From that point on, he had greeted me with affectionate terms such as “cocksucker” and “mother-fucker”. On New Years Eve, Tony made an effort to point us out to the guests. This would prove to be a mistake.
After midnight, all in attendance were gathered together to sing “God Bless America”. I must have forgotten the words after grade school and had no desire to fake it, so I left the singing masses and went back to the bar, when I returned the Mongolian and his wife were getting into a heated argument with an elderly woman. Normally I would allow this to continue but we were the visiting team and old people love a show, so I pulled the Mongolian outside to cool down. Tony and one of his goons followed us out. The goon had a crude weapon in his hand that I spotted immediately, but to my relief and surprise, Tony called him off. The old bastard did a good job of calming the enraged Mongolian down and managed to get the offending party to leave. It turns out that the woman said something rude and racist to the Mongolians wife after “God Bless America” and the Mongolian’s wife not being a meek woman by any means, laid a verbal smack down. Unfortunately a woman that was sympathetic to my companions walked over to confront the OTHER woman and ended up getting the full force of the Mongolian’s anger. This is when I walked over.
A few minutes before the incident the Mongolian drunk dialed the taxi service and they arrived shortly after everyone had settled down. While I was sad that the party ended, I was glad to see the night end without a fist being thrown or a hip being broken. They left without issue, but the minute their cab pulled away the elderly hordes started circling asking me questions. Most of these guys were Italians and I guess I fit the part of someone they could talk to.
My wife called the cab service, and 30 minutes later she got through and we had to wait another 30 minutes for the cab to get there. Waiting at the door for the cab was like a receiving line for the nosy. They all asked, and they all got the same answer, which they accepted happily and went on their way. A younger man with a very tall and very drunk wife came staggering up to the doors and proclaims “I heard there was a cab out front”. I told him there wasn’t and gave him the number to the service warning him it could take a while. Then he went outside. I knew the bastard was going to try to steal my cab, so I had to wait in the cold and was thinking about ramming his head through the glass doors. My thoughts were interrupted by his wife who drunkenly blasted through the doors and fell down. She started yelping about wanting to go home and he helped her up and got her back inside where my house guest started chatting her up. The distraction worked out for me because the cab pulled up. I told the driver my name and it was indeed my cab, as I got my wife and friend, the snake tried to bribe the driver to take him home instead. While he talked at the drivers side, I loaded my group in the passenger side. This guy kept at it saying we could share a cab, I said sure and when the man left to collect his wife, I told the driver to leave.
The ride home ended with my house guest requesting McDonald’s and the driver agreeing enthusiastically (more money for him). This man was much more to our liking and made fun of the previous driver with us. My house guest ordered several items off the midnight menu happily sharing with all as we pulled up to my house. As I watched him stagger through my door as I paid the driver, I wondered how many more years would we go through this ritual and I as I walked though the threshold and I decided it would be the last.
