New Year’s Eve

It’s the most incredible party night of the year, they say. It’s totally unmissable, they say. It’s got fucking fireworks, they say. But who are ‘they’, and why are they promoting this frankly disturbing evening of overpriced entertainment with such wild abandon? 

Have they no moral compass, no slither of concern for their fellow man? Do they not know what horrors await the people who venture out on New Year’s Eve, what terrible circumstances they’ll find themselves in mere moments later?

You see New Year’s Eve is the worst evening of all the year’s evenings. It’s a nightmare. A full on, lengthy, vomit-inducing nightmare of unquantifiable proportions.

Why? I’ll tell you why.

1. It’ll bankrupt you 

This one is a given, and most New Year’s Eve lovers seem totally fine with it. Want to go a restaurant? That’ll be £300. Nightclub? £500, at least. It’s exactly the same food, booze and sticky floor as always, but this is a special night so you’re going to pay special prices. You’ll understand, I’m sure.

2. All the world’s turds are out

For some reason this spine-tinglingly thrilling evening of entirely missable entertainment brings out the worst of all people. The sort of people who usually reside in caves, scratching each other until they bleed. The people who go to Wetherspoons for a pint of Fosters at 11am. You wouldn’t want to associate with them ordinarily, yet here you are, bopping away to the YMCA within spitting distance of some of the worst examples of humanity the world has to offer. It’s New Year’s Eve, you think, so it’s ok. It is not ok.

3. You’ll be abandoned in the middle of nowhere

At some point during the night you’re going to have an epiphany. You’re going to realise that whatever nonsense you’ve got yourself involved in has got to stop, and it’s got to stop NOW. Unfortunately you’ll be totally fucked by this point because on New Year’s Eve public transport ceases to exist, taxis are rarer than the ivory of a freshly born unicorn and all the roads are closed because they’re full to the brim with people having the best night out of their lives. Oh yes, you really are stuck. Tfl are pissing themselves laughing. They have, of course, stayed at home.

4. It gets a bit rapey at midnight  

At midnight a total stranger will launch at your face, mouth wide open, tongue flapping around like a doomed cod. Be prepared. If you cannot dodge said impassioned stranger in time consider spraying it in the face with deodorant, or strike it squarely on the nose. I would say throw your drink at its head but that’d be irresponsible, it probably cost you fifty quid.

5. It’s cold

Did you forget it was the middle of winter when you purchased that sequin-encrusted party-suit? Did you consider the fact that you would probably have to walk home, because of the aforementioned lack of transport? Did you think about the fact that by the time you got home, dragging along bleeding stumps that used to have feet attached to them, you’d be so cold that you’d start rubbing yourself on the carpet like a neglected cat, sobbing silent tears that would immediately turn to perfectly formed icicles? No, you didn’t.

 6. It might kill you

If all the world’s turds don’t get you, you survive the shock of your decimated bank balance, you manage to fend for yourself and against all odds navigate your way home and your body doesn’t break down as your rigid, greying flesh thaws you’re doing well. Not that well, though, because soon come the traditional symptoms of New Year’s Day.

There’s the torturous headache that feels like you’re being smashed over the head with a bottle of white wine, the tiredness of a thousand sleeping beauties all mashed into one and of course let’s not forget the puking, which reaches a magnificent crescendo in the middle of the afternoon when your entire stomach falls out of your mouth and tumbles onto the floor, the remnants of a Mini Guinness still entombed within it.

“Was it worth it?” You  silently wonder to yourself as you attempt to stuff your stomach back down your gullet using a dirty toothbrush you found on your vomit-encrusted bathroom floor.

No, truly it was not.


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