December 31st, 2012
To the magic show.
That’s right. Per Al’s unlikely confession the following night, the magician was officially on his way. Please view your invitation below:
Who? Magic Mike. An original Ninja waiter from our dinner location the night before that Al had ever so discreetly hired for our New Years Eve pre game.
What? Not a clue.
Where: My personal…apartment.
When: 3 o’clock
Why: I haven’t the slightest.
We prepared for his arrival in classic ways such as:
1. Putting on pants
2. Getting our shit together
3. Dispensing of the copious amounts of bud light cans scattered about the premises
5. Purchasing pop confetti from street vendors
6. Ordering 7 batches of Pomme Frites and 12 sauces to appease the magician’s potential hunger
And then the doorbell rang
He had arrived.
Ladies and Gentlefriends,
The Magician had officially arrived.
Cue in the music.
We violently popped sparkly flecks in his magical face as Lark blasted “quando, quando, quando” over the loud speakers.
(feel free to play this track during the remainder of the story)
Al offered him a drink. Magic Mike said yes. Or rather:
And promptly after his liquor request, placed us in a neat circle
Straightened his black tie that rested on his royal purple button down, and entertained us for not 1. Not 2. But 2 1/2 magical hours. He did things involving cards, coins….and tossing cookies in the form of 80 pounds of paper:
And what started as a train of mind blowing, witchcraft and wizardry shenanigans that tickled the fancy of every perplexed member in the room…somehow segwayed into a lengthy and unwarranted vent session about his past relationship woes, involving breaking up with a past girlfriend in the form of a card tricks but more recently spoiling his replacement lady friend with gifts such as a sailor moon necklace:
and Charizard hoodie
…for the holidays…
Bye bye now Magic Mike.
And finally. S l o w l y. And eventually. He left. And as we shut the door behind the strangeness that had just occurred, we prepared ourselves for our final hours of 2012. An evening to bid adieu to a year of Ryan Lochte and his intelligent ways
Having a good only fashioned Rombama campaign
Witnessing the weight gain and declining respect for America via honey boo boo
waving hello to instagram which makes everything we eat and every face we hang out with look insta-awesome
and the birth of the term YOLO that has encouraged many people to perform ill-advised activities near and far
The girls slipped into their lavish black dresses, sequin dipped tops and perfumed their perfectly pinned hair while the gentlemen tied and retied their debonair accessories and escorted us out the door. And we looked classy. And we felt classy.
And promptly after exchanging polite banter at Meg’s pre-game abode, we appropriately ripped some peppermint shots
Piled into cabs
And rallied for the final few hours of 2012.:
The night was a melodic blend of top 40 remixes, arguments with bouncers, talking to bears
and splashed cranberry juice that kissed the skin beneath our stockings and stained the shirts of the gentleman who once wore white.
And I loved it.
I was happy.
I was ecstatic.
I was exactly where I wanted to be.
With exactly the people I wanted to be with
And before I knew it, it was 11:21
That turned into 11:36
That shifted to 11:44
That ended in 11:59
And at the precise stroke of midnight, we, for the second year in a row, reveled in the perfect glory of waving goodbye to an epic 2012 and cheersing to a genuine “Fuck yes” to 2013.
Just kidding. As if I’d let one of stories end on an appropriate note.
Promptly after the precise stroke of midnight, we watched as the night indeed took a debatable decline…
With every attempt to head home, Al defied our requests and delivered last minute trays of booze like this:
Tore up the dance floor absolutely solo like this:
Joined us as we marveled at a…well-rested…couple that looked like this:
And eventually headed home in sheer happiness to the very living room that once was a stage for cupcake eating tactics and ninja/magician performances…except this time with 2 very large pizzas in hand.
We heard a subtle sound of an outgoing phone call. I looked down at my phone to clarify I dodged the “accidental butt dial past midnight” move. I was in the clear. But where…where was this sound deriving from…I scanned the room – hoping to pin the culprit of the unidentified origin of this noise.
Hallie? No way.
“Hey hi! It’s me, Al again. Just checkin up on that menu of yours. Are you selling the entire thing?”
After the second phone call rejection. Al stormed out of the room, gracefully face planted and continued his journey to what we thought…was the bathroom.
7 minutes had gone by and it wasn’t until I was 8 slices of pizza deep that I solidified the decision to inquire about Al’s suspicious whereabouts…I rose up from the couch, sauntered towards the bathroom and glanced down my hallway…just to notice my front door was completely ajar.
He was gone…but 1
6 minutes later, he was back clutching 3 crinkled bags in his hands. And then he said
“So hey happy new years everyone…I um…” He unwrinkled the suspicious white bags in his hands revealing the golden arches he had phoned not so many moments before.
“I’ve got 60 chicken nuggets and 6 double cheeseburgers. LET’S DO THIS.” We all stared blankly…and then ate like savages.
With the exception of Claire, who was completely sedated by 6 slices slices of pizza, 8 nuggs and the sheer excitement of 2013.
And as we sat there in a pile of emptied pizza boxes, nugget cartons, cheeseburger wrappers and confetti
I couldn’t help but realize that this magician, confetti, carbs filled evening with my best friends was but the perfect kick-off for an even stranger 2013 to come. But that it wasn’t just this night. Or even just the few nights before that I filled with bizarre happenings and entertaining shenanigans. But many of them. Whether they were in the form of Brooklyn band members, hitching a ride from Spiderman , taking a hit of absinthe from a pirate , embracing the single-life, discovering ballrooms where Elvis was once was, or supporting the dreams of my friends while they supported mine too. And pretty soon I had created a life. A life worth writing about. With people worth writing about. Just like I said I would. Encapsulated in a year worth remembering. And I intend to do the very same this year. If not better.
Happy New Years everyone. May this year be even more entertaining than the last.