New Years Eve! How exciting. You have built this moment up in your head for weeks now. It’s going to be AWESOME. Someone’s going to do something stupid and it will be AWESOME.
Or will it? I’ll tell you now. It won’t.
These are the things that’ll happen to you at a New Year’s Eve party:
1) You won’t go to the right party.
Someone yelled Bugged Out and you followed without realising that you actually wanted to go to Dollop, but no one heard your screams. So there you are, amidst people you kind of know but don’t really like, looking on Instagram and seeing your bessie take photos with that girl you hate, in the filthy toilets. Probably en route to some fingerbanging. You were really hoping for some fingerbanging this year. The people you came with have now scattered and you’re wondering whether to let this greasy man continue feeling you up, or just leave and attempt to find your safe home. You stay, because New Years Day is about regret and self hate.
2) There will be a countdown and you will definitely miss it.
You realise when it hits 12, you will have to kiss this horrible man, who looks very much like a Mexican Robin Thicke, and another epiphany hits you when you realise he’s your worst nightmare. You break free to find someone else. Someone who is at least in your age group. The closest you come to this is the underage boy with braces who managed to find his way in and is the only person who isn’t groping a girl because he took too many drugs to realise there are girls around him. As you stare into his gleaming braces, time slows down. It’s nearly 12. This year cannot end like this. I’ve gained 1 and half stone, I don’t need this as well. Just as you turn away, the countdown begins. You panic. You fall to the floor. You cry. Welcome to 2014.
3) You will take the one drug you hate.
So this is how you start your year. On the floor, weeping into someone’s neon platforms, wondering why you’re here in the first place, you’d rather be at home eating home made pizzas and drunk-shouting at the TV. You pick yourself up, and look for the toilets – the one place you can go and not have fun. To your dismay, it’s full of young vital people, wearing next to nothing, heads half shaved and goggles with technology pointing them to the closest Don’t Panic stand. ‘You’re interesting’, you tell yourself, as you attempt to stride in. You smile at someone, so they retaliate by shoving ketamine up your nose. You mumble thank you before stumbling back out again.
4) Everyone has a fucking camera.
Your make up has gone everywhere. I don’t mean that in the ‘oh look darling, your eyelash has found its way to your cheek, let’s go fix this at once’. I mean, ‘love, you have lipstick on your vagina, which I can see’, everywhere. You don’t care, because this ketamine has ruined your life, so everything from here is a positive. Someone with an expensive Canon turns to you, sees you trying to slip your underwear back over your private parts and takes as many photos as his finger will allow. At the moment, you are unaware. Tomorrow, you will be on Embarassing Nightclub Photos, with over a thousand likes and your mother’s confused comment.
5) You will try to go home, dear lord, you will try.
The fresh air hits you and it’s beautiful momentarily, until suddenly you decide you really like the floor and you should sit on it for as long as possible. You see people walk past, all of whom have cameras and probably Facebook accounts and that’s when you get the last surge of energy, you get up and begin to fall/walk towards a taxi. You get in and begin to fall asleep before you’re woken up to tell the taxi driver ‘the fucking address you drunk bitch’. You mumble some of your postcode and are awoken to the sounds of the taxi man rifling through your bag for money and kicking you on the curb. You are outside familiar territory, but this isn’t your house. BUT this bench looks nice. Maybe this can be your new house.
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