New Years Eve is a bumbling festival of expensive cover charges and wasted amateurs. Why not skip the whole thing and go to a party? Check out this tale of one of my exciting New Years Eve celebrations. This story was originally published on 11/19/2010 at my old blog, Bronan The Barbarian.
I decided to get out of town for New Years Eve, so I called up a couple of friends, found a party and hit the road. I arrived in Colorado Springs, gathered up my friend, (hereafter referred to as “Fish Boots”) and headed out for a night on the town. I was in a great mood and walked into the party at the top of my game. We hung around for about an hour, but it quickly became apparent that Fish Boots wasn’t her usual social butterfly self. She pulled me aside and suggested that we abandon ship and hit her sorority sister’s party. I loves me some sorority girls, so I bid our gracious hostess and her roommates farewell.
Fish Boots neglected to inform me that her friend’s house was in Fountain, over 45 minutes away from our current locale. After a lengthy drive and a significant amount of grumbling on my part, we arrived at our destination. I looked up and down the street, searching for the raging party I was promised. ‘Twas nary a soul in sight on the entire block, without even the reassuring glow of a porch light to guide us. Questioning the wisdom of leaving a pretty sweet party, I knocked on the door.