​​​​​​Because humor is funnier when you know it's true.

Happy New Year? (continued) 

And so in an expression of great caring and concern, we told Jim that he was required to babysit George until they could catch their second wind. We had come to NYC to party, and damn it, we would not be denied. Our situation was further challenged when a NYC patrolman came over and told us that George was not allowed to lie or sit down on the sidewalk, as he had to be standing. Since three of us were engineers, we came up with a solution. Stand George upright, lean him against big Jim, and leave them both precariously balanced while Steve and I took off in search of a party. Screw empathy, this was New Year’s Eve. 

Ultimately, we stumbled onto a party at the Statler Hilton. Since it was past midnight, there were no longer any doormen checking party credentials, and so we simply waltzed in. We cruised around and found some upscale young ladies who were actually willing to talk with us. Though I don’t remember all of the details, Steve insists to this day that one of them identified herself as a Hilton girl, complete with a diamond-encrusted wristwatch. For all he knows, she may be Paris’ aunt today! 

We hung with them for the rest of the night, though we were unsuccessful in forming more intimate relationships. Eventually it was time to call it a night (actually a morning). We said our goodbyes and made our way to the Port Authority to catch our bus back to Jersey. It was nearly 6am and the sun was rising. 

We approached the waiting area for our bus, and I could see the familiar figures of Jim and George in the distance. As we got closer, I could see that they were very hung over. And they were not happy. Apparently they had gotten split up and were forced to fend for themselves. Jim had somehow picked up a souvenir wall phone along the way from God knows where. And George? He was really pissed at us. He had apparently been picked cleaned while passed out, having his wallet, watch, sweater, and even tie stolen! We didn’t have a good excuse for not protecting him, only our selfish priority to party. 

In the end, it was not a very happy New Year. We had struck out with the ladies, and our Times Square experience had cost us personal property, some brain cells, and nearly our friendship with George. But at least we could all say that we had checked a major item off our lifetime bucket lists.

- Rick M.