I’m a New Yorker. Born in Queens, live in Brooklyn. I’m not going anywhere. And I’m 42 so my huge party days are behind me. I’m still single but I’m not going to be that weird old guy in a bar past midnight. And I don’t do many other crazy things that young people are doing.
For example, New Year’s Eve in Times Square. I did that back in 94. It was…
Back then Dick Clark still hosted “Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve”.
My friend “Pete”, my cousin “Stan” and I went in. We had a few drinks beforehand so prep for the long evening, then we walked as close to “the ball” as possible (I seem to remember drinking in the streets too, but I can’t confirm that.) There’s a ball above Times Square on a pole that is lowered down the pole at midnight. We were probably a few streets away.
It was just a sea of people. And when the mass moved, we moved. We were all 5′ 10″ of taller so it wasn’t so bad, but I did see some people 5′ 5″ ish who were having a rough time managing being in the crowd.
“But Rex, what if you had to go to the bathroom?”
Well, you would have to walk away and lose your prime spot.
I REALLY had to go. As Stan was in front of me, I noticed that nobody was looking anywhere but up as they were concentrating on survival. So… I bent forward about 30 degrees to create some space between Stan and me, opened up, aimed down to the ground without directly looking and hoped for the best.
I know, I know… I’m gross and I’m the only one who’d ever do such a revolting thing.
The moral of the story is… finish drinking and take care of your business early, or have some solid plan, otherwise your cousin might pee on you.
Or, avoid the zoo that is Times Square on New Year’s Eve altogether.
If you’re thinking of going, or just curious… read this:
And to this day, I’ve never told Stan about it.
PS… I went the following year too, with different friends, and was sure to stay on the outskirts and not get involved in the mayhem.