There is a singular teal sequin lying on the floor of my front hall and it’s not mine.
I didn’t wear teal or sequins last night, I wore red and black, my two favourite colours, to ring in the New Year. Last night was New Years Eve and it’s now 2012.
I’m hung over and puzzled by this lone sequin. How did it make its way here to my front hall floor?
Last night began at a friend’s pre-New Year’s Eve party. We drank, we ate Mini Pogos and candy, we sang songs from the 90’s and talked about our New Year’s resolutions. Everyone wants to lose weight, be happier, I want to start flossing my teeth daily even though I hate it. I also want to learn to play chess.
From there we walked a cold block to the People’s Chicken. Do not let the name or the giant chicken on the roof fool you, this is no plucky restaurant, it’s a swinging cougar bar where they always have a great live band. We drank, we danced and got hit on. A cougar named Carrie was particularly persistent when it came to my boyfriend and other guy pal. She complimented their hair, mentioning that most of the men at the bar didn’t have any, and told us she was there with her writing club. I slipped up to the bar with my friends and got a drink as boyfriend danced with Carrie and her writing club ladies. She took his picture on her cell and I wondered whether she’d write a story about him, like I’m writing a story about her now.
After the song was done, my boyfriend came back to me at the bar and gave me a kiss; Carrie didn’t follow. It’s just as well, I have his kisses and she has his picture.
One more hour till midnight and the fun was just beginning.
It’s 11:00pm and my friend gets sick. He’s very delicate about it though, and I respect him for that. He leans gently over an empty beer glass and throws up in it. No one notices and all his mess is contained in the glass. I’m disgusted, yet completely transfixed! I’m starting to wonder if I’ve had too much to drink. My sick, but still tidy, friend is escorted home by his girlfriend and I remain with my party to toast the New Year.
There’s the count down, the silly hats, the kissing and then I notice my boyfriend’s eyes starting to droop an indication that he might not be feeling well. He leaves for the washroom with a friend and after a time the friend comes back and tells us a bouncer has asked us to leave. “We’re getting kicked out of the cougar bar!” He’s incredulous! I might be mad if I wasn’t laughing so hard. I keep thinking “Great, we’ve kicked off 2012 by getting kicked out of a cougar bar!” It seems too funny, the year is too new and that bar is too old.
After the after party at the apartment is over and I’m at home I rip my nylons while taking them off. I might be mad if I wasn’t laughing so hard. It seems too ridiculous that I have such problems with nylons, the year is so new and I might have had too much to drink.
Now it’s New Year’s Day and I’m staring at a lonely teal sequin as the raindrops fall faster outside. My boyfriend is putting on his boots so we can go get Vietnamese down the street to cure our hangover.
I bet this sequin belongs to Carrie.