I rang in the new year in a way I never have before.
On the bus.
As you might surmise, this was not by design, no matter how much I enjoy riding on public transit. Instead, I was working until 11:30 p.m. and as it happens my schedule and the bus schedule do not overlap conveniently, so as the hour struck midnight I found myself sitting on the #22 at the bus stop at the intersection of Broadway and Clark. The driver was kind enough to come onto the intercom and wish the six or so onboard a happy new year. It was nice.
The new neighbors at the corner of the street had a big and not-terribly-legal firepit raging in their backyard to help celebrate the passing of the old year, with a number of revelers in attendance, while the crisp night air was pierced by the occasional whistle and explosion of fireworks. I also watched as a guy walked directly down the middle of 19th Avenue while talking on his cellphone. Another on the other side of the street angrily shouted at…no one that I could see. But oh yes, he was angry.
All in all not a bad night and it was perhaps the first-ever New Year’s Eve on which I got snugglebunnies, so that was a bonus!
