December 31, 2019. Significant other and I have reserved a table at one of the local dive bars. We are scheduled to arrive at around 4PM so we’ll have time to prepare for the New Year’s Celebration. Whoooo-fucking-pee! By midnight we’ll be trashed.
Agenda includes two quarts of aged-in transit red wine. (Wine choices: #1 Red, #2 White. Please order by number) I like red wine. The color lets me know what I really need to wash out with bleach; white is too bland.
Of course we’ll have a few pitchers of beer to prepare ourselves. Beer lubes the way down for the wine.
All of this will be accompanied by pickled pig’s feet and stale potato chips.
Of course significant other seldom imbibes and when she does, she limits her intake to a glass of wine, two at the most. On the other hand, if I stumble through another month and a half or so of not drinking alcohol, I can celebrate 36 years without a drink.
Ah, well. Fuck the New Year. Forget about the dive bar, cheap wine and flat beer. We’ll watch a streaming movie on Netflix ‘n go to sleep by 10PM.