Pardon me while I refill my glass.
I'm staying home this year with Main Lady and Excellent Rachmaninoff. We'll eat dinner, watch a DVD or two and walk the dog at midnight, by which time ambulation will require some concentration.
My reasons for staying home instead of going out on the town are many, but in summary:
- The old dinner, dancing and champagne at midnight packages are more expensive than they used to be, the people more obnoxious and the bands make noise instead of music.
- About half the people in the crowd can't wait to get blind drunk and do something hilariously funny, like having their dinner issue an immediate, mandatory return to sender instruction while they are on all fours with their head stuffed into a large plastic plant.
- It's a virtual certainty that more than one in this crowd is going to be a drunken, belligerent asshole that wants to start a fight with someone, and it doesn't really matter who. The female counterpart to these scholastic college scholarship winners will first instigate, then encourage, and finally join in.
- The police are getting serious about this drunk driving business. Between political pressure from MADD, SADD, GLADD and DADD every single unit on the force is going to be rolling around the city looking for drunk drivers, and when they get caught the drunks are going to jail. I do not want to be in the middle of this fiasco.
- This is the official amateur hour. Out of every four people, invariably it will be the drunkest idiot who insists on driving. This fool isn't a safe driver when he's cold sober; when he's half in the bag he becomes more careless than before, and when he's loaded he'll do crazy stuff. Mind you, this fool won't hit anything at all - until he sees me on the opposite side of the four lane blacktop. I really and truly do not want to cash in my chips in a head on collision with a drunk driver in an SUV.
Maybe next year we'll go out. This year we'll stay in.