It’s New Year’s Eve. Run for Your Life.


Photo Illustration: Everett Bogue; Photos: Getty Images

Well, folks, we were back for a moment, and now we’re gone again. But never fear, Daily Intel will return with a vengeance on Wednesday (and for good. We have no vacation written into our contracts — we just had to stop last week because our fingers, and souls, were bleeding). Since we know you’ve probably already left work and are going on to whatever horror you’ve got planned for this evening, we’re going to leave you with a bunch of heartfelt wishes for New Year’s Eve. While we would normally recommend getting the hell out of the city on this wretched night, we know you all, like us, are still here, and that you, like us, still allow yourself at your age to be bullied by some latent high-school-era belief that tonight should be the most fun night you have this year, and not only that, but the most fun night of your entire life thus far! We sure hope you won’t be disappointed! Here’s to that! And along with that we’d like to bestow upon you the following well-intentioned toasts…

May you…

• Know more than eight other people at the giant open-bar party that you paid $200 to get into.
• Be so entertained by friends and merriment that you don’t have to watch any New Year’s Eve special on any major network, including MTV because God help you if you do.
• Not have to give a midnight kiss to that only semi-cute person you were sandbagging at the beginning of the evening in case no one hotter came around.

• Not get so drunk that the semi-cute person is still around for brunch and Sex and the City reruns in the morning, such that you have to view him or her in the light, which is never a pretty way to begin a new year.
• Not be in any situation in which you are looking for a cab.
• Not have to pee behind a cab while traveling between bars.
• At least not have to pee in a cab while traveling between bars.
• Not have to choose between salmon and chicken at that $300 prix-fixe dinner you reserved months ago, because God dammit it’s New Year’s Eve and you wanted steak.
• Not be only visited by your second- and third-tier friends at the party you threw in your apartment at the last minute because you didn’t have any other plans.
• Not call your ex at midnight.
• Or your other ex.
• Or your parents.
• Not be confronted at any point by true emotion. Or vomit.
• Not do that thing that always happens when you are left alone for a moment whilst hammered and start going through your phone to find people who might appreciate a naughty text at three in the morning. FYI, they will appreciate it, but it will be at ten in the morning when they wake up, and not in the manner you had hoped for.
• Not get stage fright when you are trying to pee in a Gatorade bottle in Times Square, surrounded by 50,000 other people.
• Not have purchased a special outfit involving glitter, sequins, boas, lamé, or large hilarious glasses.
• Not end up at a party that promises Jell-O shots, even ironic Jell-O shots, as the featured entertainment.
• Not be the drunkest person in the room.
• Not be the soberest person in the room.
• Not witness the drunken sloppy make-outs between ugly people.
• Not cry, at any time, for any reason.
• Not poop, at any time, for any reason.
• Not decide that this, of all times, is the one to be honest.

It’s New Year’s Eve. Run for Your Life.