There were about ten of us tonight and most of them were not what I’d considered my group.
Most of them were my friend’s boyfriend’s friends and very French.
I don’t mean to stereotype but they mostly drank red wine, rolled their own cigarettes, ate cheese and chocolate and talked about which small town in France the red wine came from. I was out of my element and yet it was New Years Eve, so drinking, eating and socializing were on my to do list.
I had only seen someone roll their own cigarette in movies, so to see it happen it real life was just plain charming and awesome. I had her roll one for me.
I didn’t inhale right and didn’t smoke it slow enough, but I still felt charming.
The oysters covered in bacon (or maybe they were mussels or snails) was soon replaced with fa guo and then lots of chocolate cake. It seemed like the only thing to do was to eat and chain smoke and drink more red wine...even though I hate that red wine stains my teeth and lips.
I didn’t have too much to say to the Frenchies...I spoke to some guys who weren’t sure what I meant when I tried to explain how my recent trips to both Germany and Israel were paid for because I was Jewish. They seemed lost at ‘Jewish’.
I kept drinking and eating.
My favorite part of it turning midnight and being surrounded by French, was of course, the double kiss. I didn’t feel a full loss at not having a midnight kiss because I had multiple double kisses.
Thank god for the French.
The dance party and more chocolate cake started shortly after that.
My friend’s French BF started letting loose at that point and soon I got envious that she had a long term parter in crime.
I had to leave on a high night, mid dance party before the blues set in.
So I did something that I don’t normally do at 2AM on a Sunday morning.. I walked.
With my Ipod in...I walked to the meatpacking district, which I assumed besides times square, would be the most popular place and I was right.
I don’t know why but I needed to end 2011/start 2012 this way- watching girlfriends curse out their boyfriends, best friends get into fights about nothing, drunken asses getting kicked out of clubs.
Maybe it was a last minute needed esteem boost but it worked.
I got on the train heading uptown and couldn’t stop smiling.
The energy in the air owned me.
One part of me was mad about how sober I was, the other part was entertained by every subtle ‘I love New York” I heard.
People picked up on my smiling. A man offered the seat next to me and I looked closer at him.
“You look like you’ve been making out with a clown” I said.
“I got hugged by a chorus girl in Times Sq.” he explained,
and then asked if he could kiss me.
He asked while furiously texting on his phone.
A moment later he cursed about the cell service.
“Just hours into the new year and you’re already bitching about lack of cell service underground...you need to make out with more clowns and text less.” I said.
Others on the train heard this and smiled.
“Will you make out with me?” he asked politely.
“No. I’m not a clown.” I explained and got off on my stop with a smirk.
I leave my story on this note- at the most surprising times, right before I let sadness take me,
I sometimes choose happiness and I remember to smile, simply at the smallest things.
Tonight, though it was the end of a very long year, I could’ve let myself go in the other direction per usual...but instead I told a stranger to kiss more clowns...because in the end, kissing should always win out no matter what.