My New Years...

-Apparently, it was a lot nicer in 2008.

Not to say Club Rebel was a bad spot, but there was something a little off about that place. Mainly the fact that it resembled a condemned parking lot and the questionable "I can't put my finger on what that is, oh wait, it's the crab rangoons they're serving near the dance floor" smell. Again, it was not a bad spot. Welp, here it goes. My New Years.

My buddy and I head to Poughkeepsie to take the Metro North railroad into the city because, well, we don't have a definite place to sleep for the night (more on that later). We train into the city and take down a couple Amtrak Heinekens to try to prepare our livers for the blind-sided hit they were about to take. The "where are you" texts started to roll in and it was almost time to ring in the new year the most classless manner possible. We crushed some pizzas and made our way to rebel. GPS told us that we were either 25 minutes away of 2 minutes away from the place. To top off God's GPS joke, I was also mistaken for a Bank of America security officer and subsequently called good looking by a gay couple. Things were looking strange to say the least.

We get to Rebel after being a little confused at whether it was really a parking garage.

Rebel smelled a tad on the rank side, but I'll give them the benefit of the doubt because they served food. A lot of flashing lights, people, and booze at Rebel it seems. Pretty much Grandma's recipe for a bad decision. We all hit the open bar with the ferocity of a lioness protecting her cubs. So what it was 9:00pm and the open bar ends at 3am, we feared a big line. Needless to say, within 2 hours I am blackout drunk and leading the league (bar) in questionable overall decisions.

The bar gives us notice that 2010 is only 20 minutes away and then no notice after that. No 10 minutes warning, or 5, or 1. Or I was hammered, but I'm pretty sure they just forgot or the mic was broken. Most anticlimactic new year ever. Drinks keep flowing, women keep appearing and disappearing and then appearing again. I'd say I had 12-15 Jack'n Cokes at this point and maybe a beer or two. Coat check is a blur and next thing I know we are getting into a near brawl inside a local pizza shop. Just screaming at strangers. Next image in my blur is a diner in Times Square crushing eggs and bacon. One of our buddies calls and I end up talking to him about god knows what. I politely exited the conversation, walked outside, and vomited all over the concrete jungle. After frightening a few happy couples, I walked back inside the diner and finished my breakfast. With my momentary post-vomit sobriety, I suggested that we should get to Penn Station and get home. Sobriety disappears, I now see that we are getting chased by a drunken girl in a pink jacket. What?

We narrowly escape to Penn Station at around 4:15am and realize that the next train isn't until 7:15. Fuck. Well..the ground is looking appealing. Yes, we slept on the ground of Penn Station until 7:05am when a kindly Amtrak worker told us to get the hell up and catch our train. Train to Poughkeepsie was much of the same drunk. Same guy waking us up, same drunken scurry, but this time to the back of a cold big red van. In Newwwww Yorrkkkkk....

Hope everyone's New Years was safe and happy. No Penn Station floors for you guys.