We have spent the last 45 New Year's Eves (give or take) with Bob and Tim, and this year proved to be among the most joyous ever—I even remember it! For 2007, we met in Brooklyn at the homestead to count down our respective top 40 playlists. This year we were all in the mood to look at pretty faces instead of staring at our own ugly mugs.
First stop was Cola's, Bobby's favorite restaurant along Eighth Avenue in the heart of Chelsea for Italian eats. The intimate little joint was hardly crowded and we enjoyed a nice leisurely dinner starting at 8. Lovely.
Next we stopped by an apartment just around the corner, where Bobby and Timmy were staying for the night, as their friend Mikey went out of town. It was the ideal intermediary for warm-up cocktails and animated conversation, along with hats and tiaras, natch.
Then it was on to the main event, as we tip toed through the needles—also known as ferocious wind—we met our destination at 19th between 7th and 8th avenues... G Bar. No cover, no line.
This is where the serious party started, complete with camera colorizing antics. Wow. We are very cool. Who needs psychotropics when candles, fun-colored drinks and Canon special effects are around? We were amazingly fortunate to actually find seating, as go-go boys skipped around us, hot little bartenders ignored us and boys of all ages, shapes and sizes dances, cavorted, made out with strangers and enjoyed the positive vibe. Before your mamer could slide down the stripper pole, it was time for the countdown: "10, 9, 8, 7..." you get it... And... 2009!
Can I just say thank God? For the four of us, after another hour or so of G mayhem, we decided to take the party elsewhere, and stopped by nearby Rawhide, where the men came in fewer ages and shapes, but spirits were high, all the same.
Then it was back to Bobby & Timmy's temporary gigs, some more pictures, more hats and... hmmm, it's every so slightly fuzzy. Ayhan and I left and went for pizza. Yeah, that's it. Then we tried in vain to get a cab... nothing doing... They roared by us one after the other, filled with hapless drunks, while we, not drunk enough,
were turning into icicles. With the wind chill, it was 5 degrees. Alas, the subway was right there, and running wondrously efficiently, probably for the last time this decade. But we were home in no time. An ace evening, and a bright start to what I hope will be a year with a lot less darkness.
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