Another New Year's Eve has passed. Good riddance. A belated goodbye to amateur night. An event for amateur drinkers looking for an excuse to get sloshed.
After 38 years of bartending under my belt, I've had my share of that night's festivities and revelry.
Being retired from batending now, (due to health issues, i.e., a bad back, a bad hip, just can't seem to gyrate behind the bar like I used to), I often think back of all those New Year's Eves spent slinging whisky, pouring champagne at midnight, and getting all those wet, liquory kisses. Yeah, I don't miss it one bit. Well, okay, maybe just a little.
(But I do miss bartending in general. I really do!)
One of my biggest pet-peeves was watching all those people put on those silly hats and blow those ear-shattering horns all night. No wonder my tinnitus still acts up. And I thought it was all due to front row seats to Jimi Hendrix and Who concerts.
Now I'm really dating myself.
But eventually I came to agree with what Pete Townshend sang: "We're not gonna take it.......!"
No, just can't take it anymore. Working a New Year's Eve bar shift is akin to me
doing another thing you just couldn't pay me to attend: a presidential election night ball! As my good friend Boomer said about those balls: "a 45-minute wait to get a drink, terrible food, and long lines for the bathrooms." No, there's just so many other things I'd rather be doing.
Such as?
Well, staying at home and reading some Charles Dickens Christmas short stories.
(Hey, New Year's Eve is still in the octave of Christmas!)
You really can't go wrong with a Charles Dickens read at anytime of the year. But he's just so appropriate at Christmas time.
As my protest aginst the amateurishness of New Year's Eve, I don't even drink that night. And it's so nice to wake up on New Year's Day without a hangover, unlike all my compatriots from bar life.
I usually take Joanie, my wife, out to an early dinner, maybe late afternoon. Then we come home and watch an old Humphrey Bogart mystery. Gotta love that Maltese Falcon.
She goes to bed early. Then I'll make a cup of hot cocoa, and seriously, I really do get into a Dickens novel. Tradition.
Being in my recliner, I tend to fall asleep before midnight.
And you know what: I wouldn't have it any other way!
Before I forget: Happy New Year!
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