December 31st, 2005.
I arrived to work at approximately 6pm that evening. Having spent the last two days driving across country and arriving home at 5 o'clock Saturday morning, I can safely say that I was not in the mood to work. All I really wanted to do was spend time with friends and tie one on. However, I had the previous two weeks off. Therefore, Y.E.L.R.A. was feeling a bit broke.
Additionally, I knew I would get some interesting stories out of it.
The party that was downstairs for the first portion of the evening was deserving of a kick in the shins. There is nothing worse than a bunch of upper class white folk getting drunk. The more alcohol that is consumed, the more annoying they become. Their party had some sort of 1920s theme to it. However, no one seemed to understand what exactly that meant. They had a vague idea that they had to have fringe on their dresses, but that's about it. They also knew that they had to have feather boas. Therefore, the floor was covered with feathers by night's end.
One woman's skirt (if you could call it that) was cut so high that I could see her crotch and her ass. It was obviously something she bought for Halloween and wanted to wear it again. The visible panties were of the thick quality, something akin to what cheerleaders wear under their skirts. Nevertheless, it was tacky and unnecessary.
Another woman was wearing a short dress that showed her back prominently, exposing her absolutely ugly tattoo. Her hair covered a chunk of it, but I could make out a set of long horns on each shoulder blade. The best part about this woman is that she walked like she had just been created in Dr. Frankenstein's lab the previous night. You could tell that her outfit cost some money. I'm sure that here shoes -- which were very elegant I have to admit -- were a few hundred dollars for the pair. She was not a very graceful woman, but she acted as though she was the bee's knees. Therefore, it's okay to laugh at her.
As 8:30 approached, one of the food runners came up to me.
"Hey, dude," he said. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I seriously hate white people right now."
I knew exactly what he meant. A bit of clarification is probably needed at this point. Most of front of the house the staff -- including the abovementioned food runner -- is white. We're just from the other side of the tracks from the folks we take care of. I guess that's always the way, isn't it?
The rest of the evening I was in a particularly foul mood. I kept up appearances and was extremely nice to everyone. That was mainly because people were tipping me left and right. Plus, I had nothing to be too upset about. There was none of the usual things that I have to deal with. I was prepared to stop several couples from having sex in the stalls. I was also prepared to deal with gallons of vomit. However, nothing happened.
Of course, people
were doing drugs. A table in one of the handicapped stalls was covered with remains of uncut cocaine. I also found a syringe in one of the stall trash cans. I'll give the shooter the benefit of the doubt and say that they were diabetic.
All that aside, my main concern was that I was not going to see my fiance. She stated that she wanted to stop by and ring in the new year with me. However, we had a bit of a row that afternoon and I was nervous that she was still mad.
As 11pm approached, I was getting antsy. I hadn't heard from her. I finally texted her.
"Are you coming?" I wrote.
A few minutes later I received a text message with the following one word:
"Yup"
At around 11:30pm, my fiance and a couple of friends entered the restroom. Words cannot describe how happy I was to see her.
As midnight approached the restroom got a little busy. Everyone wanted to ring in the new year with an empty bladder. However, the closer it got to 12am, the less people I saw. When the New Year came, the only people in the restroom was my fiance and I. We kissed and everything was all right.
She left around 12:30, leaving me to do my job. She also left me with a bourbon and soda, which I had no problems drinking.
At around 12:45 my manager came in.
Manager: What do you want to drink?
Y.E.L.R.A.: What?
Manager: I feel bad. I forgot you were down here. The rest of the staff has been drinking since midnight.
Y.E.L.R.A.: Oh... ummm... a vodka tonic.
Manager: No, I mean a shot.
Y.E.L.R.A.: Ummm... I guess tequila.
Manager: I'll be back.
He shortly returned with a shot of Patron and a vodka tonic. I have to say that getting a buzz on at work is quite nice. It's not as though I've never done it, but it's nice when you get the okay from the manager. It tastes better.
As the alcohol took effect, I stopped being so uptight about my job. Plus, most of the people were leaving anyway. That's the thing about New Year's Eve. People go home shortly after ringing in the new year. Perhaps it's because the month of December is so full of parties that they've had enough once January first comes. Perhaps they just want to get home to avoid all the drunk drivers. Whatever the reason, it's nice that once 2 am hit very few people had to be ushered out the front door.
New Year's Eve never turns out how you want it to be. There are always high expectations to ring in the new year at the perfect place. I certainly did not expect to ring in 2006 in a restroom. However, the fact that my fiance was there made it so much better.
She picked me up at around 2:15. As we drove through downtown we watched all the crazy drunk people standing on street corners, waiting for public transportation or taxis. They are an interesting lot, those New Years revelers. On any other night these streets would be barren, save for the myriad of homeless people. On post-midnight January 1st everyone is greeting strangers that they probably spit on the the night before and giving them wishes for a happy new year. It's a shame that has to stop.
Of course, one can't stay drunk and cross-eyed all the time. Their eyes would stay that way. At least that's what my mom used to tell me.
