I think my bed in New Brunswick has fleas. New Years Eve morning, I wake up half-covered in tiny, pink sores.
I must go home. I will sleep in this bed no longer.
Besides New Brunswick has been barren lately. Walking these streets, I picture myself as a spaceman walking the surface of a dystopian colony on the surface of the moon.
The loneliness of New Brunswick is driving me mad. I return to my hometown.
I watch the Twilight Zone. I eat a fabulous dinner with my family…but it isn’t enough. I need to return to New Brunswick for my last NYE.
At 11 p.m., I drive back to New Brunswick and every traffic light is green on Route 1. This has never happened before. I make record speed.
The city is repopulated with loud, boozy bodies. It is now 11:37 p.m., and I can’t stop at The Hub to pick up the necessary alcohol I require to bring in the New Year. The line is too big and the ball’s going to drop!
I’m at the party and I realize how sober I am. I’ve brought a beer over from my house, but it isn’t enough. I’m too sober. A drunken vegan murmurs something under his breath as we chat. I think he is talking about my leather jacket. Can I usher in New Years with an ass-kicking?
The ball drops and it’s 2012. I need beer or something. I prowl the streets and drop by parties.
At one of the parties, someone divulged their life story to me. It’s a Cuban tale of rebellion, cheating, and vengeance. As he speaks, I wonder if he actually knows me. Perhaps we have met before and the ball is in my court? I have forgotten names and faces before. He maybe looks familiar. However, my mind returns to the moons face. Who are these people? Is there a sober body in New Brunswick? I’ve made poor tactical decisions this night. It can’t be saved.
When the beers digest, I will return home.
At 5 a.m. I return to my car. No one is on the road and New Brunswick is barren again. I’m in a lunar rover…
So Happy New Years everyone, and let it be filled with sweetness, and great life stories!
