Street Urchin

Lots of people hate Christmas but I love it. Not for the presents, the bustle of shopping, the consumerism, not for religious reasons. I love it for the gaudy colored lights, the smell of cinnamon and pine, hot mulled wine, the comfort of family together in a warm house. It’s New Year’s Eve and Valentine's Day that I detest. Valentine’s Day is obvious; do I possibly need another reason to be depressed about being single and unloved?! But New Year’s Eve is just a mess. Drunk people everywhere, stress and expectation. Stupid myths about how you start off your year, ridiculous resolutions and insincere promises. Outlandish cover charges at lame bars. The complete unavailability of taxis. Those dumb hats people wear. It’s just plain annoying.
My hatred of New Year’s Eve has a long history. In fact, the list of irritations above is nothing compared to my personal history of mild catastrophes on NYE. I have had huge fights with two boyfriends on NYE and I mean FIGHTS – one I dumped beer on his head, ripped the necklace I made for him off and threw it out the window; another I sorta punched and he knocked me over in front of everyone at a warehouse party. On NYE 2000 (when the entire country was swept with Y2K rumors of immanent destruction and chaos) my bf at the time decided to take liquid LSD without telling me and I was baby sitting him all night in crowd of thousands. On yet another miserable NYE I watched my friend and cousin make out conspicuously and loudly for hours. That night culminated with a pigeon shitting on my FACE on my walk home. Last year I was in an awful night club, high on coke, with my Brazilian boyfriend and his friends, pretending to have fun. Needless to say, my track record is not good.
So, this year I decided to work at the restaurant. I assumed that would keep me out of trouble. But I was wrong. Before my shift even ended the manager had given me two drinks. Then I was convinced to go to a party at coworker’s house on the border of Oakland and Berkeley. My plan was to drink wantonly the first hour, so I could get a good buzz, and then spend the next couple hours drinking water and sobering up for the drive home. The only problem was when I went to look for my car at 2:30 am, I couldn’t find it. I went back the party house, they kicked me out saying everyone had left, it was over. I ended up wandering the streets of Oaktown, in a slightly ghetto neighborhood, alone, semi-drunk and crying for 3 hours! I called cabs - they never answered or never came. At one point a Yellow Cab operator told me the wait was 2 hours for a cab! I made phone calls; no one answered, they were either drunk or in bed asleep. The one person would I got ahold of was Teo, my ex boyfriend, who was at a party 40 miles away, wasted. I succeeded in completely freaking him out; he kept saying he was going to come get me and I kept telling him not to because he was too drunk. Instead he insisted on calling me every 5 minutes to see if I was OK. I think he called me like 30 times! I was literally running up and down side streets frantically searching for my car. At one point, I thought, 'THIS IS IT. This NYE I am going to die on the streets of Oakland, someone is going to kill and rape me and that will be the end of it all!' But no one did. I think I looked too crazy and pathetic!
At 3:30 am I ran into a woman walking her dog and she offered to let me ride her bike so I could cover more ground looking for my car. Then I was teetering through dark streets on a bike, babbling on my cell in terror to Teo and nearly crashing. Finally, around 5am the kind lady with the dog volunteered to drive me home in her old clunky van. I hopped in the front seat with the dog (I was best friends with her by now, she was so sweet and cute – a mix of chow and pitbull) and gave the lady $20 for gas.
When I got home there was a note on my front door from the 24 year old Indian guy I had went out with several days earlier (that’s another story)…
The note read (think it was actually supposed to be a song):

‘Dear, dear Violeta, O ya pretty face!
Better to keep your ears open, listen to me trying to ROCK!!!
You are the one I like for who you be and how you are!
You make me smile and happy like a fucking SUPERSTAR!!

Don’t you get MAD at me for dropping by here this card!
It’s the just way I am and I promise to change it if you want!!’

Blah blah blah… I’ll spare you the rest but it ended with.

‘I LOOOOOOOOOOOOVEEEE YA!!!!!’

Just when I was home, safe in my house and I thought the nightmare was finally over - Teo called, his voiced slurred saying he was on the Bay Bridge driving to my house. Apparently he hadn’t listened to my begging him not to drive drunk and was well on his way. He continued to call me for the next hour, completely lost in various parts of Oakland. There were cops everywhere. Miraculously, he arrived safely (and without a DUI)at my house around 7am. I opened the door and he tore my pajamas off. I like to think he was concerned about my safety but apparently he had other concerns in mind as well…
To top it all off I was expected at work that morning. I arrived 2 hours late. My coworkers were highly amused by re-enactment of the evening.

I think I will stay home next year. Maybe have a toast with myself and some sparkling apple cider. No need to temp fate anymore…