It’s the last day of 2013. People tend to stay up until midnight to bring in the new year. There’s fireworks, alcohol and hugging people you don’t know or don’t like.
I stayed in bed until midday today as I’m not one for staying up normally. I’m being forced to go out tonight for the first time in years. I hate New Year’s Eve, I really do. My wife has bought us tickets to the local pub. £10 a ticket to go to a pub we go to for free all year round. What the hell’s that all about? I hope our drinks come in Royal Doulton glasses at that price.
My afternoon was spent with my feet up as my wife started getting herself ready for our night out, a full four hours early. She asked me what I was planning to wear. I told her jeans and a T-shirt and she rolled her eyes and said, “Oh no you’re not! You’ll wear smart pants and a nice shirt.” Why the hell did she ask me the question if she’s made my decision for me anyway? Women, hey?! You can’t beat them for pointless questions. The Chinese have it right; they get their wives to walk a few paces behind them. I wouldn’t dare try that with my wife; she’d give me a slap.
Time to go out now, 7pm. Five hours before midnight. Five hours of spending my hard-earned money on a night I despise. I went to the bar in my nice shirt and smart pants, as instructed, and ordered the first two drinks. It took me 15 minutes to get to the bar. 15 minutes, see? I told you it wasn’t worth it. How can this be seen as enjoyment?
My next surprise was the extra 30p added to the drink prices for the night. The pub industry must really see us coming. That is basically the story of my night; backwards and forwards to the bar saying ‘excuse me’ a million times trying to get past the punters to my table. Surely this all goes against fire regulations. I may just point this out to the manager if I see him.
We’re coming up to the final ten seconds before midnight, when everyone counts down to zero. There is a massive cheer and everyone starts saying ‘Happy New Year’ to people they don’t know and don’t like. Everyone is friends all of a sudden. Perhaps they should have invited Hitler and Jesus to a New Year party and save us all a lot of hassle.
Now comes that fucking song, Auld Lang Syne; the most pretentious song in history. Friends and enemies hold hands and sing that old problems should be put behind them. The only problem is, the next day they hate each other again. It’s utter nonsense and makes my skin crawl.
It’s 12.05 and I’m starting to try to persuade my wife to leave, but she says, “The party’s only just beginning.” No it isn’t, we’ve been here for five hours and five minutes. Eventually she gives into my moaning and at 12.35 the ordeal is over for another year. Well, almost. It takes 25 minutes to get out of the pub. She insists on saying goodbye to everyone.
I’d say goodnight but it hasn’t been, so I’ll just say night, see you tomorrow.