The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight (maeincarnate) wrote,
The Mad Poller What Polls at Midnight
maeincarnate

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New Years Eve Weekend, Pt. 2

There was a catch, of course. MEL had somehow miscounted or lost or never got or whatever three of the tickets for the party. There was some concern that WE would be up shit creek for the night, but luckily there were plenty of tickets being scalped at the front door.

What does a $5 per person mandatory coat check charge mean? Well, for one, it means somebody isn't getting a tip. It also means that if MICKEY wants to check both his suit jacket and his coat, that nice "per person" line on the sign makes for an easy "fuck you" to the girl who wanted him to pay $5 for each item. Oh, and to not give you a tip.

Lucky breaks were all around: the room was crowded, but not insane, the tickets that were scalped off the street turned out to be VIP tickets, and MICKEY and I were lucky enough to get them and the perks that came with our little orange wristbands (free crackers!). Since the party was in a warehouse/loft thing and not a bar or a restaurant, we were allowed to smoke indoors (a nasty tease to the New Yorkers in attendance of what life was like when they lived in a free country), and the Red Bull sponsorship and open bar allowed for nearly immediate returns on investments.

Everything was going great. The music was awesome, the crowd was lively yet well-behaved. The line for the bathroom, however, was a different story. On a whim I decided to go check it out, and 40 minutes later, I emerged refreshed from one of the three ladies stalls. The scene in the mens room didn't look much better, and reports were that there was one urinal and two stalls. When I walked by, three guys were peeing in the sink. Hey, at least it's got a drain.

The drinks were stiff, the room got more and more crowded, and things got a little stranger. I chatted for a while with a visiting Japanese girl who threw out my "counting-stack" cups, one of the girls WE came with began making a show of herself on the dance floor, DR. COCK got emotional, and JENNIFER and I began throwing things out the window onto the fleet of Salvation Army trucks in the lot below. Why? I dunno. The sill was messy.

At around 2:00, GAMER complained that the bar wasn't serving drinks anymore, and the word got to us that the party was shutting down. Apparently, those two stalls, the urinal and the sink weren't satisfying the hordes, and the police had been notified once people took to relieving themselves in the elevators, the utility closet, and cascading a peefall down the stairs.

MICKEY introduced me to his bathroom line buddy, a cop from Denville, NJ who was very good natured at the level of hilarity I found in the fact that he went to Morris Knolls High School. WE walked past the waiting paddy wagons to the nearest avenue and after nearly 15 minutes managed to hail a cab, only to give it up to the girl who was bleeding from her chin. After a short regrouping at COCKY's place, WE were passed out in the hotel. Sure I remembered to recharge my cell phone. But I forgot to brush my teeth.

I still can't believe the party got shut down because of urine.

My purse, which had been tucked in the corner beneath the window was wet. Must have been a gin and tonic.
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