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

Happy New Year?

One winter, my buddies and I decided we needed to experience the thrill of a New Year’s Eve in New York’s Times Square. We were college students, and were therefore young and stupid enough to feel that this was necessary. 

Steve, George, Jim and I traveled in from New Jersey before the days of designated drivers. Fortunately we were semi-smart in deciding to park our car in Jersey and take a bus into the City. Since we were mostly poor college students, we followed our usual cheapskate routine of bringing individual half pints of whiskey to avoid paying those high NYC drink prices. At least we classed it up somewhat by wearing ties, in the hope of getting into classy parties later. 

We got to Times Square early and elbowed our way to the center of the crowd, then had to wait for hours until the ball dropped. The surrounding crowd helped to shield us from the bitter cold. So did those flasks of whiskey. 

Anticipation was building, and so was the crowd. Pretty soon, we were all packed in so tightly that I no longer had control over where I was going. The crowd seemed to move in waves and we were forced to move with it. The crush of people became so great that I was actually having trouble breathing and felt that I could literally lift up my feet and not fall to the ground. For the first time I could understand how fans could be crushed to death at those crazy foreign soccer games. 

Pretty soon the New Year ball dropped, everyone cheered, and the crowd dissipated. We had gotten separated, but Steve and I eventually found Jim and George on a nearby sidewalk. George was sitting on the curb nearly passed out, and Jim was having trouble standing. Apparently both had over-imbibed, and neither was in any shape to continue partying.